


The Logic of Sacrifice

by Polarnacht



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Dark Magic, Dubious Consent, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Love, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23450569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polarnacht/pseuds/Polarnacht
Summary: When Jace is 5 years old, he watches his mother leave to protect his unborn sister from their abusive father. Thrown away like this, Jace holds on to the things he has left: His father, the Circle and the man he calls the Shadow. Jace understands that he needs to be the child they want him to be to not risk being left behind again.When Valentine dies, he comes to live with the Lightwoods and the first time in his life, he understands what love actually is. The bond to Alec and later to his sister Clary goes deeper than he ever could have imagined.When in the battle against the Circle he is confronted with the option of letting his family get hurt or sacrifice himself, the choice is easily made. But sacrifices bear often unforeseen consequences which not only the sacrificial lamb has to suffer. Will Alec and Clary be able to safe Jace from his tormentor and from himself?The Rape/Non-Con tag and the dubious consent tag do not refer to anything between Alec/Magnus or Alec/Jace.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Malachi Dieudonné/Jace Wayland
Comments: 67
Kudos: 43
Collections: DL;DR: Shadowhunters Fic





	1. We'll do it all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OliviaLuzia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaLuzia/gifts).



> Hi there, this is going to be a dark story, so please make sure to read the tags before continuing! 
> 
> All chapter titles are from the song "Chasing Cars" from Snow Patrol, my all time favorite song when it comes to Jalec.
> 
> This story is for OliviaLuzia ❤, who prompted me with this idea and helped me develop it 😘

Jace was 5 years old when he learned for the first time in his life that what he was, was not enough. It was a cruel lesson, a lesson, which burned in his DNA and surfaced at moments he wanted it the least. Maybe it had been easier if the lesson had come from his father. Jace was used to painful lessons from his father, Valentine Morgenstern, leader of the Circle, a rebellious group of vicious Shadowhunters, who wanted to enslave the Downworld and take over the power over every Shadowhunter from the Clave. But it was his mother who taught it to him, and she taught it thoroughly.

  
Jace adored his mother, as maybe every child did, maybe even more, because she was kind to him, she never beat him or punished him when he failed in something. Sometimes, she even took the time to sing a children’s lullaby to him before he fell as sleep and the nightmares took over. The lullabies often even soothed the darkest time of his day. He even adored her more when he learned that she was pregnant, pregnant with his baby sister. The moment Jace learned that he was going to be a big brother, he was thrilled and his heart went out to the unborn baby, protected in the belly of his mother, protected from the harsh world he was living in. Jace swore to himself to be the best big brother there was, to protect her, from the wrath of his father, from the dangerous Downworlders his father told him about and most importantly, he would protect her from the strange man, the man behind his father, the man Jace called the Shadow. He would sing his own lullabies to his baby sister and guard her sleep, so that she never had to worry about the demons entering her dreams. Whenever he was allowed, he touched his mother’s belly and he was delighted when he felt a small fist punch at him in return or a small foot kick at him.  
Maybe the lesson would have been more bearable if Jace had not been the loving kid he was. Jace loved with his whole heart, sometimes he had the feeling that his heart burst over with all the love no one seemed to want. But soon, he would have a sister, who surely would love him back and accept the love he had to give.

  
But as it was, the lesson was harsh and brutal. Shortly after his 5th birthday, his mother was visibly pregnant by then and only a few weeks left to go, Jace woke up in the middle of the night from a strange noise. His father and the Shadow were out to hunt down some Vampire nest and he was alone with his mother. Jace was still drowsy from sleep, but the noise had woken him, it was threatening scratchy sound, as if someone dragged something heavy over the floor. He reached for the Seraph Blade hidden beneath his pillow, grabbed it tightly in his small fist and stood up, the cold air in his room making him shiver. He knew he shouldn’t be scared, he was a Shadowhunter after all, but he was. He was ashamed that he felt that way, but he couldn’t help the goosebumps on his skin, which were not solemnly caused by the chillness of the room. He patted on bare feet to the door and opened it quietly, not to alert the perpetrator in the hallway. But when he peeked through the door, it was not a monster, it was his mother who pulled a suitcase behind her.  
Jace froze. He looked down on her with wide eyes, the useless blade still tight in his hand. “Mom?” He knew he shouldn’t sound so insecure, Shadowhunters were supposed to be strong and confident, not weak and flinching.  
His mother Jocelyn looked up, a strange expression on her face.  
“Jonathan.”  
Though she didn’t ask him to come down, his feet developed a will of their own and he flew down the stairs, just to stop in front of her. He nearly stumbled, his short legs not as fast as his mind.  
“Mom, what are you doing?”  
“Jonathan, you need to understand. I need to get away. I need to protect my baby. And with you he wouldn’t let me go. ” She held one hand protectively over her huge belly.  
Jace just looked at her, wide eyed, a coldness unfolding in his body and soul he had never felt before. He felt the tears rushing to his eyes, he blinked rapidly, swallowing hard. Shadowhunters didn’t cry, even if their mom was about to leave them.  
“But who am I?” Jace knew he was not a baby anymore, but he was her child, wasn’t he. He was her son. So why would she not take him with her? Why was he not worth of her protection?  
She hold up one hand as if to touch him, but she let it fall down before her fingertips could reach his pale skin.  
“You? You are his son, Jonathan.” Without saying another word or hugging him one last time, she turned around, dragging the suitcase after her, leaving the 5-year-old child behind in the darkness of the hallway, in the darkness what was his life.

  
His son. The words echoed through his head. Not hers. Not ours. Just his. He stood frozen to the spot for he didn’t know how long, the coldness seeping through his entire self, before he could convince his feet to go back to his room. He closed the door mechanically, storing the Blade, with which he had been determined to defend his mother and his unborn sister against any danger, under the pillow again. He didn’t cry that night, he just lay awake in the coldness, thinking of what he was and why it was not enough. Why she didn’t love him enough to take him away with her, if she even loved him at all. And what it meant to be the son of his father, the brutal and ruthless man. The thing he understood was, that when being Valentine’s son was the only thing he was, he had to make sure to be it right, to do it right, to not be left behind again.


	2. On our own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning: Towards the end there is a small paragraph with an absolute non-graphic and non-explicit rape/non-con scene, but if you are not comfortable reading it skip the part between the //.

The coldness, which Jace had felt the moment he realized that his mother was leaving him, followed him like a shadow. No matter what he did, he had the feeling he could never get warm again, despair’s cold fingertips always on his skin. He had felt that his mother loved his unborn sister more than him, which was ok, he knew he had many flaws and was hard to love. But he had not been prepared to be abandoned like that, she had been the only light in his life, which just got darker the instant the door closed behind her.

The moment Valentine digested what had happened, Jace had the feeling something snapped inside his father, turning him once and for all over to the side of darkness. Valentine had been demanding and cold towards Jace from the beginning; his goal had always been to train his child to be an obedient soldier, rather than being a person, a son. But when his wife left him, taking away with her the daughter he had longed for, his heart turned into stone and the small flame of affection towards Jace diminished even more with it.

The once calculated anger towards the Downworld, used deliberately to keep his followers in line and the rage burning just enough to make the Circle desirable to many, turned into blind hatred. His former Parabatai had transformed into a werewolf and he had fled together with Jocelyn, the joint betrayal of the persons Valentine had loved the most, the base of his fanaticism. Despite that, Valentine was still the same charismatic leader he had always been, inspiring loyalty by just using the right words towards the right people, handpicking his inner circle carefully. They were not always the strongest, bravest or smartest, to the contrary, often they were rather average and had flaws in certain fields, but that made them even more loyal towards him and the Circle, following his lead without questioning him or the cause.

He kept his son a secret, no one in the outer world, except of course his ex-wife and ex-Parabatai, knew that he existed and he wanted to keep it that way. As much as Jace feared his father, as much he admired him. The way he led the masses, the way his people followed him made Jace proud. Proud to be the son of that man, who everyone looked up to. He wanted nothing more than to live up to this picture. His father’s expectations were high and got even higher the older Jace got and the young boy knew that there was nothing else for him to do than meet these expectations. Valentine wanted him to be the most skilled warrior there was, so Jace made sure to become it, it was a simple as that. He trained harder than ever, never wasting time with just childish plays. He studied, he listened, he learned. Yet, he often failed, at least in the cold eyes of his father. The punishments were harsh, leaving Jace often beaten bloody on the ground or with broken fingers or wrists. But every pain made Jace better and Jace knew he deserved the pain. He had chased his mother away by being a weak, pathetic child. Jace knew that for sure, because his father had told him, not only once, but many times. And deep down Jace knew it was true, why else had his mother left him alone if not for being weak? Jace was supposed to be a brave Shadowhunter, and so far he had not lived up to that. So he tried to push the tears away and set up a brave face instead, every time his father unbuckled his belt to beat him, to not flinch away from the pain, but to embrace it, as it would make him a better soldier, warrior and hopefully also a better and worthy son, worthy to be kept.

Jace didn’t love his father, but he worshipped him as much as he feared him. But the person he feared even more was the man behind his father. At the beginning, when he had been younger, he didn’t get who this man really was, the power he held. He just called him the Shadow, as he was always there but the attention was never on him, though he never dared to call him this to his face. There was something dark inside this man, the kind of darkness, which even made Valentine look bright. The way his eyes followed Jace made him shiver. Yet, he was one of the few who showed any kind of interest in the boy at all. Whenever he was around, he let Jace perform his newest achievements, a new fighting move or the newest language he had learned. When he did well, he got a reward, a pat on the head, a ruffle through his hair, once even a small wooden toy soldier. Yet, it often felt more like the affection from an owner towards a pet, but it was all the affection Jace got, so he took it. He kept the small soldier under his pillow, next to the Blade with which he still slept.

When Jace grew older, he learned that his fear of the Shadow was justified. He had discovered that when he kept quiet and melted into the shadows of the room, the adults tended to forget he was there and talked openly. It was important for Jace to know what was going on, as he wanted to be the best soldier and child, and to know what the latest schemes were about was essential. He had stopped thinking about if he agreed with his father and the Circle in general. His mother had sometimes spoken up against his father, arguing that not everything was as black and white as Valentine saw it, that not all Downworlders were bad. Jace didn’t care about that any longer. His place was with his father and he had to follow his lead, because if his father decided to leave him, there was nowhere left for Jace to go.

He learned a lot when he was crouched in the corner of a room, his breath as even as possible that really no one noticed him. The most astonishing fact was, and it took Jace several meetings and a certain age to truly realize it, that not his father held the power in the Circle. Valentine was the front man, the man who seemingly led, as he was charismatic and elegant with words. He had the necessary glow in his eyes to set the sparks in their followers on fire, he knew how to say the necessary words and to whom. But what to say, came not from Valentine himself. The what was determined by the Shadow, a man called Malachi Dieudonné.

***

Malachi grew up in Southern France, the fourth and youngest child to a poor Shadowhunter family. He had been small as a child, before the growth spurt hit him at the age of 14 and turned him into a tall and broad man. His brothers had always been stronger than him, more powerful, more pleasant, more eloquent. His parents used to overlook him, concentrating their attention on their three other, seemingly more promising children. But these days of his earlier childhood had taught Malachi one thing. He might had been the smallest and weakest, but he was certainly the smartest. He discovered soon that not necessarily the strongest one was the one who held the power. He learned that his most useful strength was his ability to manipulate others. He made it his goal to play his brothers off against each other without them even knowing it, so that at the end, he was the one who got what he wanted. Even when he reached adolescent and he was no longer weak, he considered this ability his greatest power. He was rather clumsy in front of huge crowds, but he knew how to pull the strings from the second row.

Malachi’s family was poor and always struggled with survival. He often felt ashamed when he had to wear the old, already worn-out clothes from his three older brothers. He hated the pity in the looks of others when they looked down at him. He hated them for their wealth, especially if they were not Shadowhunters but Downworlders. The incredible wealth of many, especially of warlocks and the old Vampire clans, caused his jealousness, which soon turned into active hate. Shadowhunters were the descendants of Angels, they were the superior race and therefore they should rule the Shadow World and control the Downworld. It was a shame that half Angels lived in poverty whereas half-breeds such as werewolves or warlocks were wealthy and spend their lives in indulgence. So when Malachi heard from a charismatic man in the U.S., who formed a rebellion against the Clave to better these things, to give the power to the Shadowhunters who deserved it, his choice was easily made. He left his family and country behind, joining the Circle and Valentine and made sure, that he became the right hand of Valentine and soon he was the one who called the shots, all oblivious of that fact but him. And Jace.

***

The first times it happened Jace just sat there, wide eyed and not believing what he saw and heard. But it happened again and gradually, he realized that the true mastermind of the Circle was not his father, but the Shadow. Still, his father was a powerful man, he still looked up to him and did everything in his power to make him proud. He was 12 years old now and his body was already scared from battles against demons and Downworlders. His tender skin was covered in runes and he could beat other Shadowhunters easily who were 4 or 5 years older than him, he could even beat some grown men and women. No matter when during the night his father woke him, he was ready in an instant to fight. He was a soldier through and through. He had learned to mask his fear and insecurities with a cocky attitude, never showing his true state of mind. Valentine had managed to beat and punish Jace into shape, into the perfect and obedient warrior he had always dreamed of having. The only thing which Valentine had not achieved was to beat the love out of his son. Jace’s heart still ached for love and affection and sometimes he felt it bobble over with his own desire to love someone, that he had no idea where to channel it. He still missed the sister he was denied to have by his mother. He wondered what a person she would have been and was, if she were the one to want his love. He hoped she was fine, wherever she lived, and he wandered if she knew of him at all, but he doubted it. Surely his mother didn’t consider him worthy enough of mentioning him to her.

Jace had no friends and his father didn’t allow Jace to love him, as to love was to destroy. The only person, who came close was the person Jace feared the most, Malachi the Shadow. When Malachi ruffled through his hair, pleased by the latest trick Jace showed him and trailed down with his thumb over his jawline, Jace knew that this was wrong, that this was not the way it should be. Yet he held still, looking up with huge wide eyes, his head tilted upwards, into the unreadable cold blue eyes of Malachi, shivering under the calculated touch. Yet it was the only gentle touch Jace ever got. And he knew that Malachi could also be a different. Once he had dared to disobey him, the punishment, which followed even more severe than the ones from his father, leaving permanent scars on his body. When Jace had laid on the cold concrete floor, his skin a bloody mess, unable to move, Malachi had bent over him, ordering him to stop crying. He had brushed his tears away, nearly tenderly. But his voice had been anything but. The coldness in his tone and demeanor had caused Jace nightmares for a long time. “You can have it this way Jonathan, but believe me, this is only the beginning. Or you can be my good boy and behave.” Jace had wanted to scream that he was not a dog, but he had been terrified and therefore had just nodded. Terrified of being left by the only person who seemed to care about him, but also terrified of this man as a person.

***

Crouched into the corner of a room, listening to his father and Malachi, Jace learned also a lot about sacrifices and the persons who did them. The most popular was the sacrifice others did for you. He had seen it not only once that Circle members didn’t bat an eye before throwing one of their friends to the wolves, demanding their sacrifice instead of sacrificing themselves. This was the dirtiest kind of sacrifice.

Then he saw others. Some sacrificed the truth, lying to protect them or others, bending and twisting it until nothing of the truth was left. Often Valentine and Malachi took gladly that twisted reality, as mostly it was good to strengthen their cause, to paint the Downworld in the worst light possible. Sometimes they didn’t let it slide and they punished the liars, torturing them until they spat out the truth or executing them to set an example.

Others sacrificed their dignity and personality. Jace realized soon that there were plenty Circle members who stayed rather out of fear than out of true believe. But it didn’t really matter, as long as they stayed and did what they were told. What they all had in common was that they sacrificed their free will.

Occasionally, but very rarely, Jace was witness to a true sacrifice. The sacrifice often made out of love or friendship, which might be the same in the end. The werewolf girl who didn’t betray her brother, no matter how much they tortured her, sacrificing her eyesight to keep her brother safe. He even saw a few sacrificing their lives, to protect the ones they loved. This was the purest sacrifice of all, Jace thought, the ultimate gesture of love. And maybe, this was also the stupidest one, but this didn’t occur to him.

***

Jace was fourteen when the Circle reached the peak of its power. That year, the Accords, a treaty between Shadowhunters and Downworlders needed to be renewed. For that purpose, the Clave together with the representatives of the Downworld gathered together to sign the new Accords. This was when the Circle wanted to strike, cutting down and murdering everyone who dared to defy them, no matter if they were Shadowhunters or Downworlders. But someone betrayed them, leaking their plans to the Clave and all ended in an even bigger blood bath than anticipated. Instead of fighting against unarmed representatives, the Circle faced armed warriors. There were huge losses on both sides, but the Clave won in the end, the Circle had to retreat and regroup.

Not everyone who could have went back to the Circle, some took the opportunity to flee and try to hide their membership. It seemed, believe did matter in the end. Now the true strength of Malachi surfaced. With an iron fist, he reigned over the rest of the Circle, holding them together, challenging them more and more to find an angle to overcome the Clave. A lot died, still believing they died for the glowing Valentine and not the cold Shadow. As much as Malachi reigned over the Circle, as much he reigned over Valentine. In the days after the failed putsch against the Clave, Valentine was about to break down. But Malachi wouldn’t let him. With his iron will and his cruelty he made Valentine stand up, forcing him once again in the leading role of the Circle. Malachi knew that the chances to win were slim, but slim chances were better than none. Malachi pulled all strings now, Valentine was nothing more than his willing puppet.

Seeing the Circle crumble frightened Jace. The Circle had been the place where he had grown up, even though he didn’t care about the Downworld and their rights either way, the Circle was where he belonged. To see his father nearly fall, deprived of all powers but the shiny façade, frightened him even more. He had always relied on the fact that his father was powerful and therefore made him powerful for belonging to him. Looking up at the dark eyes of his father, finding the same hollow expression in them than in his mother’s eyes the day she had left him, Jace knew that he was about to be left behind again. He had no idea where his father would go to, but he was sure that he was not to go with him, despite all his efforts, despite having sacrificed his whole childhood, he was still not enough.

//This knowledge together with having seen his father on his knees before Malachi, even if only figuratively, made it a lot easier for Jace to drop to his own knees, literally, in front of Malachi. Having seen his once so powerful father shut his mouth because the Shadow said so, made it easier for him to open his own and swallow everything the older man had to give. Witnessing Valentine’s will bent to Malachi’s, made it easier for Jace to bend over the bed and just be the good boy he was supposed to be, trying to keep the illusion of maybe being finally enough for someone. Easier, but not easy. Jace was aware that it was not right, but he felt he had no choice. His mother had left him, his father was about to leave and the only person left for him was the one who was about to drag him into the world of shadows, once and for all. But it was the only kind of love Jace had ever known, so he took it, twisted and wrong as it was. But it was not enough, of course it wasn’t. //

All attempts to overpower the Clave failed, the last truthful followers were slayed or fled, even Malachi with his immense strategic knowledge was unable to prevent it, the Circle was history. For now.

It was again a cold dark night when Jace was woken by strange noises. He ran down the stairs, again a useless Blade in hand. He looked at the two figures in the living room, one was lying in a huge pool of blood, the other was bending over him. When the figure stood up and the wind chased the clouds in front of the moon away, he saw that it was his father, who lay there, covered in blood, the pool underneath him getting bigger with every second. His arrival had startled Malachi, but he stood up calmly, strolling over to the boy as if not his father was dying on the floor. His hands were covered in his father’s blood when he grabbed his chin, leaving bloody marks all over Jace’s face.

“I will leave now and I have never been here. Valentine led the Circle, alone. I’m nothing more than a shadow. But the corpse they will find here on the floor will not be looking like your father, he will look like Michael Wayland. You are now his son. Understood?” Jace could only nod, paralyzed by horror and fear. He swallowed nervously, trying to choke out the next words.

“Will you not take me with you?” At that, Malachi just laughed cruelly.

“Pets are not meant to be kept, Jonathan, even if they are your favorite ones.” He patted Jace’s cheek lightly a few times, leaving even more of his father’s blood on him, before he turned around and left to never look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covered the major part of Jace's youth, I hope the time jumps into Malachi's youth and then back to Jace were not too confusing. As always, I would love to know what you think.


	3. I need your grace

Beside the helpless feel of betrayal and the panic of being left behind again, of again being not good enough, he couldn’t help but admire how Malachi had planned everything. Making Jace the son of an unimportant Shadowhunter instead of Valentine Morgenstern spared him all questions, which would have come with being the son of the leader of the Circle. And what was not asked, could not be answered. Jace was not so disillusioned to think that Malachi had staged the incident like that to make Jace’s own life better, it was just for Malachi’s sake. Jace was one of the few people who actually knew who had been the real puppet player and who the puppet. His instinct of self-preservation was way too distinctive to tell on his own accord who he really was. As things were, the Clave was still looking for Valentine and a few months later, they stated to have found the corpse of Valentine and declared the war finally won and the Circle destroyed. Later he heard rumors that there had been a man behind his father, a man who had been the true leader of the Circle, but they stayed rumors, as Malachi had vanished for good, he had went back to the realms of shadow, waiting for the right moment to step into the light again.

At the beginning, it was not easy to be Michael Wayland’s son, but soon Jace realized that he didn’t necessarily need to be this, as no one new Michael or his son anyway. He just needed to find out what the new family he came to live with wanted him to be and then adopt the role. And if Jace was anything, than he was capable of adapting. Despite his upbringing, he was not yet broken, the will to survive too strongly engrained in his blood.

Apparently, this Michael Wayland had been Parabatai with Robert Lightwood, who now ran with his wife Maryse the New York Institute and they were willing to take in a total stranger. Jace was weary of that fact, kindness came normally with a catch. He also didn’t understand how Parabatai could be so distant that they didn’t knew the children of each other, but things happened in live which couldn’t be controlled, no one knew that better than Jace. He made it his mission to understand what the Lightwoods wanted to see in him and turn into that boy, because what other possibility did he have?

It was surprisingly easy. Robert and Maryse admired from the start his braveness, his battle and fighting skills, his fearlessness – pretty much they liked the warrior Valentine had beaten into him. Jace felt relieve at that revelation, being a soldier, a good Shadowhunter was something he could do. In front of them, he kept the cocky attitude he had mastered over the years of suppressing his fears and flaws. And it worked, he saw the admiring looks they gave him. He admitted, he liked those looks. Hiding behind the cocky mask felt natural, displaying his body felt natural, nothing he hadn’t done before, maybe in a different way, but it all came down to the one thing: He might not be worthy for his personality, but surely for his body and skills. Yet, he felt also a slight unease, when once again he got all the praise and the true Lightwood children were overlooked or scolded. He felt the imbalance with which they treated him in comparsion to Alec and Izzy, who were both great fighters for their age, but unlike him, they had been children for a while. But this was nothing he could change, and also didn’t know if he really wanted to. They needed a reason to keep him after all.

Izzy was one year younger than Jace and it took him a little while longer to figure out who she needed him to be. The natural thing would be to offer her the role of a big brother, but she already had one, and from what Jace could judge, he was one of the best older brothers one could have. Protective, ready to take the fall for her in everything to spare her trouble, putting her needs above his own. Pretty much what Jace had wanted to be for his own sister. When he saw them both interact, he realized that they shared a deep connection, but when he looked closer he also saw that they both had real different personalities. Where Alec was serious and reserved, she was open and outgoing, always ready to have some fun. He was willing to follow the rules, whereas Izzy loved to at least bend the rules. Jace had never interacted a lot with other children, but he found it easy to connect to her once he had found out that. He just let her make him her partner in crime, having sometimes reckless fun, but never too reckless to be of real danger. To his surprise, he realized that he really enjoyed that. He always had considered fun a waste of time, but when the two of them – or most often three, as Alec hated them going alone even more than going with them – it didn’t feel like a waste, to the contrary. So being what Izzy needed was not that hard, even if he hadn’t known it before, he had that trait of personality in him.

Being what Alec needed him to be, that was the real tough part, as he had no idea what the older boy really wanted. When they had first met, the intensity of which Alec had looked at him had Jace startled. It was not the disdainful or judging look Valentine or Malachi had always given him, it had been an open and raw look, full of something Jace didn’t quite get. They had stared at each other, both lost in the moment and before Jace had fallen asleep that night, he hadn’t seen his father’s blood flooding the floor but warm, intense hazel eyes.

Jace tried to figure Alec out. He was protective, pensive and self-conscious and for whatever reason he seemed genuinely interested in Jace. From the start, he welcomed Jace with open arms and offered him his friendship, even though Jace saw no reason for him to offer it so freely. His first instinct was to shy away from it, but the affection he could see in Alec’s honest eyes stirred something inside the blond, which he just couldn’t ignore. So he let Alec close, tentatively at first, but soon he felt helplessly drawn to the older boy. He even told him about some of his nightmares and when Alec offered to sleep with him to chase them away, he couldn’t do anything else but nod, feeling relieved and frightened at the same time. Relieved because he thought that he finally had figured out what Alec wanted from him and frightened for the very same reason. When they lay down beside each other, he felt the tension sweep into his body. His heart started to beat fast in his chest, he knew he could do this, had done this before with someone way more frightening than Alec. Yet, he dreaded it.

“Are you okay?” Alec’s soft voice felt like a brush of wind on his skin.

Jace swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Sure.”

“You seem tense. Are you afraid of the nightmares? What are they about?” Jace couldn’t answer this question, some nightmares were too real to be talked about.

Alec waited for a while, but when nothing came, he just sighed. He was not able to make head nor tail of Jace or his own feelings towards the younger boy. The only thing he knew, had known from the moment he had first led eyes on him, that Jace was his to love and protect, for the simple reason that it was so clear that no one had ever loved that boy. Everyone just saw the cocky and fierce Shadowhunter, but all Alec could see was the lost boy, desperate to love and be loved. Alec knew that probably the truth lay in between, but he couldn’t help the feeling that Jace was his. And hopefully, someday, Alec would also become Jace’s. So when he felt the tension and unease radiating from Jace beside him, he didn’t press for an answer. He just hummed lightly a lullaby song he had once sung for Izzy. Somehow he felt that hugging Jace would not be the right thing to do, so instead he started to comb lightly through the blond hair and to his relief, he felt Jace slowly relax. One day, the blond would trust him he hoped, until then, he would protect him anyway – from the nightmares and himself.

Jace was relieved that Alec didn’t want _that_ from him. He had been ready to give it to him, as he was ready to give anything, especially to Alec. He still was waiting for the other shoe to drop. There must be a reason why the Lightwoods had taken him in so easily.

The blond had soon realized that even if Alec was a great fighter, he was just better – more brutally trained from an early age on, more ruthless, more willing to fight dirty. Jace was aware that Alec could beat him on a good day, but most days, it was the other way around. As he saw the disapproving looks Alec often got from his parents, it occurred to him that maybe this was a thing he could give the raven boy. The next time they sparred against each other and the Lightwoods watched, he made sure that Alec won. He was very subtle about it to not make it obvious and when he saw the appreciative nod Maryse gave her oldest son afterwards, he felt he had done the right thing. What he didn’t expect was Alec’s fury. As soon as his parents had been gone, he pushed Jace against a wall, a rage in his eyes Jace had never seen before and had not thought Alec capable of.

“You think it is funny to let me win? You think I am such a pathetic fighter that I need your pity?” Alec had let go of Jace, but the enflamed rage kept the blond in place nevertheless.

“No” he stuttered, trying to make Alec see why he had done it. “I just…”

“What?” Alec nearly spat at him.

“I just want to be what you want me to be. What you need me to be.” _To not be sent away_ , but Jace left this part unsaid.

“And why on earth would you think that I need you to lose on purpose against me? So you really think that I am a bad fighter.”

“No, Alec, you’re… you’re great. But I see that your parents tend to overlook you. They don’t see what they have in you. So I just wanted them to see. It is not right to compare us. I was trained differently. If you had been trained like me you’d be much better than me.”

Alec just huffed in annoyance. “The real question, Jonathan, is why you think that I want you any different than you are.”

Jace winced at the name, he couldn’t help it. It had only ever been used by his father and Malachi. And normally he would have said nothing to that question, but something in the now more even voice of Alec made him say the next words.

“Because being me has never been enough. Not for my mother, not for my father, not for… anybody. And I have no idea who I actually am.”

At that, Alec’s composure softened. He touched Jace lightly on the shoulder before he locked eyes with him, all rage replaced by something else, something lighter but more intense. “Then let’s find that out. Together.”

They started with finding a new name for him, as it had not went unnoticed by Alec that Jace flinched nearly every time his name was said out lout. But finding a new name was only the beginning, the beginning of many things they boys learned with and from each other.

***

To realize that it was quite common for Institute Heads to take in orphaned young Shadowhunters put Jace a bit more at ease. If this was a normal thing, he allowed himself to be more like the person he was or he discovered he wanted to be. If it was common, the likelihood of the Lightwoods sending him away shrank. Slowly, he grew into the boy he could have been from the start if he had had just different parents. The easy way with which the one year younger Izzy loved him, left him still sometimes speechless, but after a while he was able to return the feeling genuinely, without having to force anything.

With Alec it was still more difficult. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the older boy, this much was sure for Jace. When they lay on the floor of the training room, both panting from exhaustion, covered in sweat, there was a joy in him he couldn’t quite explain. It was just that for the first time in his life he truly felt that he belonged somewhere, or better, to someone. And the way Alec looked at him, the way Alec defended him towards his parents, protected him against the demons at nights made it clear that Alec wanted him, too. For the first time he felt safe. But this feeling also scared him, he was aware that he should never feel save, that, most likely, Alec would finally leave, just like the others had.

So instead of waiting for this to just happen, like it had happened inevitably in the past, he decided to challenge Alec. It was not a conscious decision, it was more a desperate inner need. He wanted to push Alec, to see how much he could push before the other would finally let go of him. The longer Alec stayed, the more certain Jace got that it was just a matter of time until he would go, and as he was not sure if he survived that, he figured it would be easier to cause it himself. So Jace got more reckless during hunts, not waiting for backup so he would get hurt and found himself in impossible dangerous situations. But Alec came for him, every single time he came to save him from the demon in question, patching him up with a scowl on his face, clearly not knowing if he should punch Jace further or heal him first. Normally, the healing won. But Jace didn’t stop there. He had seen the hurt look, which quickly washed over Alec’s face every time he saw Jace kissing a random girl. So he went out to party, calling Alec wrecked and drunken, reeking of sex and cheap parfume. But also here, Alec always came, picking him up, taking the pieces left of Jace and putting them back together.

One time, when he stitched Jace back together for the second time in one week, he finally seemed to have enough. Jace could see the anger vaporizing from Alec. He closed his eyes, waiting for the final words, waiting for Alec to have finally enough of him. When Alec huffed, Jace opened his eyes and looked up, just to find the older boy glare at him.

“You can stop this, Jace, you know. Not matter how much you try to push me away or try to pull away yourself, I’ll always be here.”

Jace’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected that. Not at all. “Prove it.” He lifted his chin in a silent challenge.

“Become my Parabatai, Jace.”

Jace gasped. He stared at Alec silently, blinking once, twice. Parabatai meant forever. This was nothing, which could be undone. He blushed and looked away.

“You’re not serious.”

“Look at me.” Alec’s stern voice made Jace look up.

“Of course I am. I can understand if you want someone better, or no one at all. But I want you to be my Parabatai. I want to share my soul with you, I want to share everything with you.”

Jace was speechless, he had dreamed of that possibility, but he had never thought this could be an option for him. He felt his pulse quicken in his veins, a tentative smile spreading over his face.

“How can you think that there could be someone better?”

Alec blushed now himself and averted his gaze. There were so many better fighters he thought and he was sure they all would be thrilled to have Jace as a Parabatai, he was without any doubt the best Shadowhunter of their generation. When he looked up again, he saw the most beautiful smile on Jace’s face, the kind, which Jace smiled so rarely and only in Alec’s presence and only when they were alone. It was a mixture of pure joy and a hint of sadness, of love, fear and hope. What Jace saw in Alec’s face in return made him laugh, he closed the small cap between them and pressed their foreheads together.

“You really mean it, don’t you, Alec?”

“Of course I do. I’m not really the person to be known for their humor and jokes.” At that Jace just laughed more.

“That’s true. _Parabatai.”_ The world felt good on his tongue, it felt right, it felt as he finally had found home, after looking for it his whole life. He knew he would never let go of this feeling, ever again.

Alec smiled himself, he couldn’t believe Jace had really said yes. He knew with all his heart that this was the right choice, Jace would always be the right choice for him. He was not sure if being Parabatai was all he wanted from Jace, but for now, it was enough, it was what he could ask of the blond, it was what he could allow himself. Even though the Clave had abandoned the ancient law that Parabatai could not be lovers, he was very aware of the fact that same sex relationships still were frowned upon. Or worse.

***

After Jace’s first excitement about Alec’s proposal, he became terrified. As much as he longed for a lifelong connection to Alec, as much he feared what it brought with it. Alec would see his true soul and as much as Jace felt that the time with the Lightwoods had changed him for the better, he was sure that his old self was just hiding beneath it. He had not told Alec about his real father, about his entanglement in the Circle or about the Shadow. Jace still felt the shame of having served Malachi the way he had done. He knew that as soon as Alec learned about his true legacy he would ran as fast as he could. But starting a lifelong bond with such a tremendous lie was also not really an option, was it.

Alec picked up on his unease and thought Jace was doubting the bond due to himself. For some time, the boys danced around each other, both caged in their own fears, insecurities and doubts.

Jace was about to head to the locker room to get dressed for training, when he overheard a conversation between Izzy and Alec. Izzy stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a frown on her face, Alec’s whole body composure was tense. Jace knew he should make himself known, as clearly they were in a deep conversation, but instead he kept quiet and just listened.

“I don’t know Izzy, I just feel that he freaks out about it. I think he doesn’t want the bond anymore and just doesn’t know how to say it to me.”

“But why wouldn’t he? He seemed so happy about it. He was nearly glowing when you two first told me about it.”

Jace saw Alec’s shoulders drop. His voice sounded low.

“I think he just doesn’t want it with me anymore. I mean, he could have anyone! Why would he chose me? An archer and…?”

Jace couldn’t stand the sight of Alec’s crouched body any longer and the pain in his voice. He stepped forward, feeling a bit awkward and guilty because he had obviously listened to something, which had not been meant for him.

“Alec, stop saying those things. You’re the greatest Parabatai I could wish for.”

Alec turned around, staring at his friend while biting his lower lip. His hands were clenched into fists.

“Spill the but, Jace. I know there is one.” He sounded much securer than he felt.

“I guess I leave you to it.” Izzy glared at Jace, a look which only could mean _If you hurt him, I’ll hurt you._ But this was nothing Izzy had to worry about, Jace would never hurt Alec. Not on purpose, anyway. When Izzy was gone, Jace sat down on one of the benches, hiding his head briefly in his hands. When he looked up, Alec saw the lost boy again which had arrived at the Institute, nearly two years ago. He sighed, he had hoped to never see that boy again.

“You don’t know me, Alec. Not for real. And I just cannot let you bind yourself to someone like me.”

“I know you, Jace. You are my friend, the best friend I’ve ever had. I know you’ll always have my back as I will have yours. I trust you. With my life. And I want to trust my soul to you. That’s all I need to know.”

Alec settled down beside Jace, their shoulders slightly brushing. He turned his head to be able to watch the nearly angelic features of the blond, who was clearly fighting a battle with himself.

“There is so much more to know.”

“Then tell me.” Jace shook his head.

“I just cannot stand the thought of losing you then. And I will, if I tell you who I am.”

“You’ll never lose me, Jace. I don’t care who you used to be. People can change. I know who you are now. I mean I know your father was twisted. How he mistreated you. That he put some strange ideas concerning Downworlders in your head. But I know you don’t really believe them. I know you are a good person.”

Alec felt cold when he heard Jace’s hollow laugh at that.

“You know nothing about my father. He is… he was…. Valentine Morgenstern.” Jace drew in a shaky breath after this confession. He waited. He readied himself for Alec standing up and leaving him. It would be his right to leave him, he should leave him. But he didn’t. Instead he felt Alec’s arms around him.

“I’m so sorry Jace. I’m really lost for words. But... Thank you for trusting me. I Just. I..” Alec clearly was searching for the right thing to say. He hadn’t expected that. But instantly he also felt, that it didn’t really matter. Jace was Jace, no matter who his father was. “This doesn’t change anything, Jace, at least not that. Your father doesn’t define you. If you still want, I really want to be your Parabatai.” Jace couldn’t believe the words he heard. More than the words his brain refused to comprehend anyway, Alec’s constant presence helped him relax. Helped him believe, that finally, he was worth of staying. They sat there for a long time, Jace leaning into Alec’s embrace, before they mastered the will to stand up.

***

Jace was 16 and Alec 17 when they drew the Parabatai runes on their body, binding their souls together for eternity. It was the best day so far in their still young lives, both would never forget the joy and love which pulsated instantly through the still raw and completely open bond. The other’s soul piece settled in neatly in their own, as if the part had always belonged there. It didn’t feel like an intrusion, it felt like a completion.


	4. Those three words

The bond between the two boys deepened throughout the years. Even though the connection was not as overwhelming as in the beginning, it grew even more intense. The initial rawness turned into a gentle companion. They learned to toy with the bond, to push feelings of reassurance through it or calmness, but they also learned to dampen it, to hide or weaken pain, rage and anger. The other still felt it, but not as pure as in the beginning. The most amazing thing was the synchronization of their heartbeats. When in battle, their hearts beat as one, as if they were no longer two persons with two hearts and souls, but one person with one soul in two bodies. Both were fierce and dangerous fighters on their own, but together, they were nearly unstoppable. Nothing calmed Jace more than to press his hand over Alec’s chest, feeling the steady and strong beat of his Parabatai’s heart against his hand, matching the pace of his own.

In one of those moments Alec realized that there was something more he wanted from Jace, something he didn’t dare to ask or even look closer at. When they sparred and one of them pinned the other down, a sudden urge went through Alec’s body, the urge to crash their lips together and taste Jace, to consume him and make him his in all ways possible. But Alec was afraid of his feelings. He was not yet even out of the closet, let alone ready to confess his feelings to someone his sister considered a brother. He had never seen Jace like a brother, too aware of the fact that Jace was so much more. Yet, he didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered often a little bit too long on Jace, his attention a little too focused on his Parabatai.

Jace still loved fooling around with girls. He enjoyed the fact that his body was also capable of bringing him joy instead of pain. The first 14 years of his life his body had been only a weapon – his weapon to kill others or for others a weapon to cause him pain and agony. To learn that his body could bring him pleasure was something unexpected. There was never a special one, he just had a fling here or a fling there, no one was meant to stay. He also made some secret experiments with boys, but it never felt right and so he focused on girls. If he was honest with himself, he knew why the boys never felt right. He compared them to Alec, and of course they lost that fight. With girls it was easier to pretend that his heartbeat didn’t quicken when he felt Alec approach him, it was easier to forget the longing looks he sometimes caught from Alec and made his stomach curl into a tight ball of anticipation and hope. But Jace knew that he could not allow himself to love Alec, at least not openly. He had been selfish enough to bind Alec’s soul to him, he couldn’t bind his heart, too. To love was to destroy, and Alec was the last person Jace wanted to hurt or destroy. Jace knew that Alec needed someone better, not someone as twisted as him. He hadn’t even told Alec about Malachi, the last dark secret buried deep in the back of his mind and in the shadow of his soul.

So again, they danced around each other, hoping and fearing at the same time that the other would find someone to love, someone who would be worthy of the other, both believing that they weren’t.

The first two years after the runing ceremony had been rather quiet. There had been some demon activities, some rogue Downworlders, but nothing out of the ordinary. But slowly, rumors spread that Valentine had returned, that his death had been staged and he was about to seek power again. Cirlce members, the red circle shaped rune on their neck glowing in an unholy crimson color, were spotted again, trying to invade Institutes or homes of Shadowhunters, as if they were in search for something. Jace was not sure what to make of it. He _had_ seen his father lying in his blood, and it had been a tremendous amount of blood. But there had been also Malachi, and he could picture him scheming like that, if not Malachi, who else? Jace felt the ease, which had settled in his body and mind over the last years with the Lightwood slowly fade away. If his father was still alive, it was just a matter of time until someone detected the connection between the two. He was glad that he could discuss it with Alec, they both agreed that his best option was blank denial if he was to be confronted.

Jace being Valentine’s son was not the only thing they hid from the Clave and Alec’s parents. When they had been out on a hunt and found themselves in an impossible situation, clearly outnumbered and both had lost their Steles to activate their runes, Jace had been able to activate them on his own. In this moment he had not realized it, but it had hit them later. They had done a little research, but there was no trace of anyone ever capable of such a thing. They experimented with Jace’s gift, slowly he learned to control it further. At the beginning he had been only able to activate it in dangerous situation, soon he mastered it whenever he wanted. With that, other things surfaced. Jace was stronger than any Shadowhunter should be, runed and trained or not. He was faster, he could jump higher, last longer than any other fighter could. They were as excited as they were worried, the agreement of not telling anyone didn’t even need to be discussed. The Clave was not known to treat people who were different kindly.

After his 19th birthday, Jace’s life – all their lives – started to truly come apart at the seams. On a regular hunt they stumbled over a mundane, which actually could _see_ them – which she shouldn’t as they were all glamoured. And Jace couldn’t help it, but he felt drawn to that girl. Not physically, as she was barely more than a kid, around 14 or 15. But something in him seemed to connect to her instantly, a fact which annoyed Alec beyond words. It was not that he actually felt threatened by her, but he couldn’t deny a certain jealousy at the fact, that out of a sudden someone was so important to Jace.

It all went further downhill when the girl’s mother got kidnaped and Jace made it his mission to help the girl find her. It might have been easier if she had listened to Alec at one point or another, but the girl, Clary, was as stubborn as she was clueless. She didn’t see the danger she put all of them in, but just follower her guts without knowing the slightest of the Shadow World and its hazards. Nevertheless, Jace supported her, choosing her over Alec several times. It was the first time Alec felt their bond slightly weakening, as if the constant strain Clary’s arrival had brought thinned it. It was the first time, Alec was truly scared of losing Jace.

Jace felt the weariness through their bond, he saw the hurt in Alec’s eyes. There was nothing he wanted more than to reassure him that nothing had changed between them, that Alec was still the most important person in Jace’s life and always would be, but he also felt his old life crashing down over him. Valentine was indeed back and if life had taught Jace one lesson, than it was to always expect the worst, as fate had always something up its sleeve which was even worse than that. If Valentine was back, then Malachi was certainly not far away, holding the strings tightly to move his puppets to his will. He felt that his past would come hunt him and he wouldn’t let Alec been dragged down with him. He just couldn’t. He had made a mistake letting Alec so close to him and become his Parabatai, but he was determined to not make it worse. So when the memory demon they had to consult to get back Clary’s memories of the Shadow World requested an image of the person they loved the most and for Alec a picture of himself showed up, he was relieved that Alec broke the circle and his own image stayed hidden. Of course it would have been Alec as well. Jace saw the panic in Alec’s eyes after the revelation and he knew they had to talk about it. And he knew he would lie. The first time he would purposely lie to him. But he would rather break his own heart than Alec’s. So Jace told Alec that he understood the image, that there was nothing to worry about. That they were Parabatai and of course they loved each other, but never like that. Even though all Jace wanted to say was _always like that_ and press their lips together for a heated, passionate kiss. But he hold his distance, watching the hopeful glow in Alec’s eyes vanish, replaced by a dull pain. But better now the pain than later when Jace would be an outcast due to his lying and his father. He was not that selfish to bring Alec down with him.

So when Alec met Magnus and a soft bond between the two developed, Jace gritted his teeth and looked away. He knew he should be happy, it seemed that Magnus was genuinely interested in Alec and Magnus was a good choice. Powerful enough to protect Alec, though Jace was aware that his Parbatai didn’t need protection. But still. Magnus was also loving enough to be worthy of Alec’s own love.

Alec was tentative at first to let someone close to him. He was confused as he was not used to be the center of someone’s attention, except Jace’s, but after the memory demon he had learned his lesson. Jace was not interested in him, not like that. Never like that. It had hurt to hear the words, he had seen the pain it cost Jace to have to talk about it. Alec was aware that his feelings were wrong. He should love Jace as a Parabatai, maybe a brother, not a lover. He was glad that Jace didn’t pull away from him. He was also glad for the distraction Magnus brought. Though he was first helplessly swamped by all the flirting and attention, he soon started to like it. Magnus was a beautiful and interesting man. Alec had never liked being the center of attention, but in Magnus presence he felt himself relax. He even tried to flirt back and, inevitably, the flirting led to their first kiss. Alec’s fist kiss, at all. It was intriguing, he felt like he could never get enough of that feeling. The way he felt his pulse quicken when Magnus winked at him, the way his palms got slightly sweaty when Magnus stood close to him, too close for just friends and not yet close enough for lovers, made him want more. The heavy burden of not being his true self, of hiding one important part of him slowly crumbled away. The first time they kissed in public, in the middle of the Institute, made him feel drunken and high. His fears had not been unjustified, there were still many Shadowhunters with prejudices, including sadly his own parents. But after Jace had made it clear with his words and fists that if someone was to talk badly about Alec or Magnus they would have to deal with him, the voices shut up or at least did it only in secret. Sometimes Alec felt he rushed into the relationship with Magnus, he was not really over Jace, he knew that, he had loved him for too long and with too much of his heart and soul in it to just be over it in a heartbeat. It was his first relationship ever and Magnus was so much more experienced. But the dread of Valentine, the dread of a war made him and Magnus forget all caution and common sense, they threw themselves into it, clinging to another, hoping it was the right thing and that they would remain even after all the pressure was gone from them.

***

Despite all their efforts, Clary’s mother stayed lost, later they should learn that she got killed by Valentine’s men for not giving up any information about her daughter.

The attacks on Institutes by Circle members increased, the Clave suspected that they wanted to gain the Mortal Cup to build an army of Endarkened Shadowhunters. If Shadowhunters were forced to drink from the Mortal Cup a special potion, mixed with human blood, their soul would bind itself to the person in charge, to the person who donated the blood. The Shadowhunters were then barely more than rag dolls, puppets without a conscious, a free will or soul. They were just willing warriors, ready to comply with any wish of their master. The Circle had already stolen the Mortal Sword from the City of Bones, slaughtering nearly all Silent Brothers in the process. The Mortal Cup was hidden in one of the many Institutes, only a few High Ranking Clave officials knew where it was, not even the Heads of the respective Institutes were aware of it. Eventually, also New York was under attack. Thanks to the quick-wittedness of the well-trained Shadowhunter crew, they were able to defeat the invaders, but not without losses. Clary got severely injured with a heavy bleeding abdominal wound. Iratzes were too weak to close the wound fully and the blood replenishing rune didn’t work fast enough.

“She needs real blood. What blood type does she have?” The healer looked at Izzy, Jace and Alec who sat at her side, Jace clutching her hand tightly. She looked fragile and pale, like she was just a small child and not a Shadowhunter. They all shrugged, neither of them knew, but Izzy was already running to her lab, Clary’s blood sample in a cannula in hand. When she returned a few minutes later, she gave Jace an odd look, but just told him that he was the best blood donor for her. Without any hesitation Jace rolled up his sleeve and the healer drew blood to infuse Clary with it. After the blood transfusion, she looked slightly less pale and finally the Iratze closed the wound properly, but she was still unconscious. Jace didn’t leave her side and so Alec and Izzy stated too, the healer heading to the next person who needed her more.

“She will wake up, it is just a matter of time” she assured them before heading out of the sickroom. Izzy glanced quickly to Alec before she addressed Jace in a gentle voice.

“There is something I have to tell you Jace. I ran a quick check of Clary’s blood and compared it to our database to know who would be the best donor. And it is not only that you are the best. You share the same DNA. She is your sister.” She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

Jace just sat there, trying to take in Izzy’s words. Clary was his sister. Slowly, everything started to make sense, it was as all pieces of a huge puzzle fell into place and revealed its true picture. His need to protect her, his willingness to follow her despite really knowing her. She was part of him. She was his family, the part which, hadn’t left him purposely. He felt Alec slide an arm around his shoulder.

“Are you ok, Jace?” Alec knew about his mother leaving Jace with his unborn sister.

Jace felt tears prickling in his eyes. A sad smile tugged on his lips. “I don’t know. Yes I guess. I have found my sister, Alec.” He pulled her pliant hand up and pressed a light kiss on it.

“Please wake up, Clary.” He whispered, drawing small circles with his thumb into her palm. Her eyes fluttered slowly open. Izzy nudged Alec in the side.

“I think we should give them a moment.”

When Jace nodded, Alec stood up, squeezing Jace tightly before finally going.

“There is something else, Alec.” Izzy sighed when they were standing outside the room, fidgeting nervous with her whip, which was curled snuggly on her left wrist. “Jace’s blood – both their blood – it’s not normal. It has way more Angel blood in it than for the rest of us. It even looks as it consists only of Angel blood. You don’t seem surprised.” She added with a faint scowl.

Alec shrugged and started to explain about Jace’s unusual abilities they had discovered. At least they had an explanation for that now.

***

Late at night, Alec heard the door to his room open and he saw a dark figure standing in the doorway.

“Did I wake you?”

Alec shook his head and patted the place next to him. “No. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” Jace padded barefoot over to Alec’s bed, sitting down with crossed legs. After a small second of hesitation, he lay his head on Alec’s shoulder and shuddered slightly when he felt Alec’s arm around him.

“I’m scared Alec.”

“Of what?”

Jace licked over his dry lips and closed his eyes. Some things were easier said in darkness.

“My past. I have the feeling it is coming to hunt me and get me. I’m just not born for the light and I’ve lived too long in it now. My father will come for me. He will come for her. He went nearly mad when my mother took her away. I have found my sister, Alec. I loved her all my life even though I didn’t know her. And now that I do, it feels like the circle is finally closing. I really want to get her to know her and be the brother to her I always wanted to be. But if we don’t stop my father… if he gets his hands on the Mortal Cup and creates this Dark Army, we will all be doomed. We have to stop him. And there is something I’ve never told you, Alec. But I just, I can’t. Because the thing I am most afraid of is losing you.”

“That’s good then, because you never will, Jace. I’m your Parabatai and I will never leave. Never. Tell me about that other thing. It’s secrets that keep us apart, not the truth.”

Jace felt his heartbeat slowly falling in sync with Alec’s. He soaked up the words like a dry sponge. He hoped Alec was right. He pressed his eyes even further shut and started to tell Alec of his world of shadows.

***

Clary had recovered quickly with the help of her brother’s blood. Training and working closely with Jace surfaced her own abilities: Thanks to the Angel blood, she was able to create new runes, sometimes she even felt as if one Angel was talking to her directly in visions or dreams. As with Jace, they agreed to keep it a secret, out of fear of the Clave’s reaction.

Finally, they got a solid lead where Valentine was hiding and what he was planning. Apparently he had found the Mortal Mirror and together with the Mortal Sword he wanted to raze an Angel. Clary had been able to develop a rune to prevent this. Unfortunately, at the same time, a rogue warlock had opened a riff and demons were flooding New York so they had to made tough decisions. Alec, Izzy and Magnus stayed behind to fight the demons and close the riff, whereas Jace and Clary tried to stop Valentine.

The two Parabatai stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them happy with the solution. The Parabatai bond was initially a battle bond, but the demons were too numerous for Izzy and Magnus on their own and Clary needed the strongest Shadowhunter available to accompany her in that mission, and that was Jace. Besides, Jace was not willing to let his newfound sister head into danger without him.

Jace encompassed Alec’s neck with his hand to pull him close, pressing their foreheads together.

“Be careful, Jace.”

“When have I ever not been careful?” Jace chuckled darkly.

His answer had not the desired effect on Alec. When he pulled away, it was as a dark shadow was briefly washing over Jace’s angelic face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Alec shook his head, he must have been mistaken. He didn’t believe in any kind of foreshadowing anyway.

With the help of Clary’s portal rune, the two siblings landed near Lake Lyn in Brocelind Forest, which they figured was where Valentine was headed. If they were not mistaken, Lake Lyn was the Mortal Mirror, the lake had possessed magic beyond everything else Nephilim knew, so it made sense that through it an Angel could be summoned.

“We have to be quiet now, Clary. And we have to hurry. We have to stop our father. Come on.”

Jace took the lead, both had activated their sure foot rune and silencing rune, next to strength and stamina. They followed a narrow path down towards the lake. They went as fast as possible without making any noises. Jace could see glimpses of the lake through the treetops, it lay quiet and peaceful in the sparkling sun. Suddenly, Jace heard footsteps of several men in front of them. He held out one hand to signal Clary to stop. He hold his breath, scanning the perimeter. The strangers must be behind the next curve. He gestured Clary to hide in a bush before he moved forward to get a better overview who the men were and what they were doing. To his relief, he saw that it were Clave members, not Circle members. They were all dressed in the gear of the Clave guard and in the middle of them was a man Jace recognized as the Consul. He had never met him, but he had seen pictures. He evaluated shortly the situation and concluded, that they had a better chance to stop Valentine if they combined their forces. He stepped in front of the men, about to tell them where they were headed and why, but then he froze.

The cold blue eyes of the dark haired man he knew as the Consul fixed on him.

“Hello, Jonathan.”

Jace had never seen that man in front of him before, but he would recognize that voice among thousands. He froze, the blood in his veins turning into ice, but only for a split second before his whole body was sat on fire and he leaped into action.

“Run, Clary.” He sprinted forward, his angelic runes glowing golden in the blazing afternoon sun. His whole body lit up while he urged forward, running towards Malachi and his men. He had no idea how Malachi had managed to alter his appearance so completely, but hiding in plain sight of the Clave was such a Malachi thing to do. Jace had drawn his two Seraph Blades and shouted again at Clary to run. And for the first time since Clary had entered the Shadow World, she did exactly what she was told, the fear and urge in Jace’s voice too demanding to do anything else.

Jace slayed the first two Shadowhunters without a problem, he felt the power of his runes burning through his blood. But he didn’t aim for Malachi’s followers, he knew he had to kill Malachi himself. The third Shadowhunter fell beside him, clutching his bleeding wound before Jace stood in front of the Shadow. It was just the blink of an eye in which Jace hesitated, but it was the blink Malachi needed. He turned his body slightly and Jace’s blade which was meant to kill just sliced his left side, leaving a huge flesh wound, but not more. Instead Jace felt two of Malachi’s men attack him from behind. One knife entered his left arm and with a scream of agony the blade he had held in a firm grip slipped away. Jace felt a sword entering his back and the next moment he was choking on his own blood.

“That’s enough. Don’t kill him. I need him.” He heard Malachi’s cold words before he fell to the ground, feeling ice cold magic washing over him before his vision went dark.

***

Alec felt the moment when the sword entered Jace body. He groaned in pain, clutching at his rune for a moment, but he still felt the steady presence of his Parabatai. Yet, he was relieved when they finally managed to close the riff and portaled to Lake Lyn to help Jace and Clary. They landed close to the shore and the picture in front of him made Alec’s heart clench. The muddy ground was drained in crimson red and a forlorn figure was crouched over a corpse. Clary’s red hair was swaying softly in the wind, while her body rocked silently forwards and backwards. Alec screamed a silent plea while he run towards her fast as his feet would carry him. The body couldn’t be Jace, he still felt him, yet he was scared. He had felt the stab and the pain. When he arrived at Clary’s side, he was relieved to find Valentine laying on the ground to her feet. He put his arms around her, pulling her away from the body. She looked at him with unseeing eyes.

“I’ve killed him.” Her voice was despite everything even, nearly unhuman even. Alec had to remind himself that she was still very young and not a trained Shadowhunter, she was barely more than a mundane. She must be in shock or something like that.

“Where is Jace?” He had to refrain himself from shaking her.

“The man took him.”

“Which man?” His hands closed tightly around her and only her small whimper made him realize how hard he was holding her so he let her go.

“The Consul.”

Nothing of what Clary said made sense to him, but the girl looked back at her lifeless father on the ground and it was clear that she had said all she could. Magnus stepped gently in between them and touched her lightly, asking for permission to enter briefly her memories. What he saw and told Alec, made Alec swallow hard. Clary had been able to kill Valentine with one of her runes and she had been able to cast such a strong glamour, that Malachi’s men hadn’t found her when they came looking for her. Yet Malachi had found the Mortal Sword. And they had taken Jace. Alec went white when Magnus told him about what had happened before Clary had run away. In search for her, they had dragged a bleeding an unconscious Jace with them.

“We have to find him.” Alec tried to track Jace through their bond, but though he felt his presence still, there was no way of pinpointing his location. There was a strange cloudiness when it came to their bond.

“Yes, we will find him,” agreed Magnus. “But we also have to take her back and report what happened to the Clave.”

***

Jace awoke in a stony cell, lying on the hard floor. His whole body felt sore, his arm was still slightly bleeding from the stab wound, but his back one was closed. It still hurt though. His wrists and ankles were bound with rough and thick ropes. With a groan he tried to push himself in a sitting position, but a harsh kick to his neck made him fall back. He saw black leather boots entering his vision. He looked up to see the face of the Consul, who had the voice of Malachi.

“Look what an amazing pet you are, Jonathan. Good pets always come back to their owners.” Jace tried to sit up again, but Malachi pushed him down easily with his foot again, leaving the foot on his neck to press him down on the harsh floor.

“You stay were you are, Jonathan.” He pressed him down further and Jace felt his skin scratched bloody, feeling half afraid that Malachi would break his neck, half afraid of what was going to happen if he didn’t. “We will have so much fun together Jonathan. So much fun.” Jace tried to inhale and prepare himself for the pain to come.

***

In Magnus’ loft, where Alec had fallen in an unsteady sleep after they had tried everything to locate Jace, Alec woke with a start, his body twisted with agony and his mouth escaped an inhuman scream of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish all of you Happy Easter and hope that despite the current situation, you can enjoy some time with your family&friends, in person or virtually. 
> 
> I love it when you leave kudos & comments, so thanks for doing so.


	5. All that I am...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to check the tags before reading this chapter.

Malachi took his time with Jace. The first thing he did, was to draw the agony rune on Jace’s already bruised body. Jace felt his whole body light up with fire, as if the blood in his vanes turned into acid. It started from the point the rune was carved in his skin and spread all over. He felt like the darkness around him exploded in a blending light, which was too blazing to bare. He pressed his eyes shut, but the light didn’t lessen, it was as it had infiltrated his brain and pierced his inner core. Yet, the pain, which came with it, was not the worst, Jace could handle pain. The worst were the memories triggered by the rune, which were crashing over him like waves and he had barely a chance to catch his breath between them. He relived the moment his mother left him, the moments his father told him that all of it was his fault, his father’s death and all the moments in between and after which had caused him pain, emotionally or physically. After the third rune, Jace thought that he even relived every single nightmare he had had – and he had had plenty.

He was still bound on wrists and ankles and still not allowed to sit up. Every time he tried, Malachi’s boot pressed him down again, leaving deep purple marks on his neck. When the runes hit with their full force, there was no thinking of sitting up anyway, the pain too excruciating to do more than squirm and scream.

Jace tasted blood, his tongue slid over his swollen bottom lip, catching small drops of blood. He must have bitten down to avoid more screaming, as his throat already felt sore from overuse. The whole time, Malachi leaned relaxed against the wall of Jace’s prison cell, an amused smile on his lips while he watched Jace’s body twist in agony.

When Malachi pulled his Stele out of his pocket for the forth time, Jace couldn’t hold back the whimper and his body betrayed him, trying to scoop away from the merciless hand. The Consul just chuckled darkly, of course Jace’s efforts were in vain. Malachi hadn’t asked a single question yet, he just drew the next rune as soon as the fading of the last indicated that the effect was vanishing.

The first agony rune Malachi had drawn on Jace’s neck, the second on his abdomen, the third on his back. The forth rune Malachi applied directly over Jace’s heart. Though you could draw any rune wherever you wanted, a special placement helped to channel the force of the rune. If you wanted a steadier hand, you should draw the rune directly on your dominant hand. The surehand rune would also work if drawn over the chest, but to access the full power of the rune the placement mattered. An agony rune drawn over the heart caused more emotional pain than physical, showing the victim all bad memories whilst sucking away the happy moments and, of course, causing also physical pain. Jace felt his body spasm, before he heard his mother again, saying “You? You are his son”, followed by Malachi’s cold voice “Pets are not meant to be kept, Jonathan.” Jace threw his head from the left to the right, his eyes pressed shut tightly, trying to avoid the images rising in his mind. His wrist very already bloody, so hard had he tried to get rid of his shackles. But what hurt more than his real memories or the actual pain, where the false ones made of his own mind’s nightmares. He saw Alec leaving him, he saw him breaking their Parabatai bond, he saw Alec laughing at him. Though deep down he knew it was not true, it still hurt to see his greatest fears come to life before his eyelids. When he felt the burning of the rune lessen and his body twisted in the last flash of agony, he felt a hand brushing over his wet cheeks and his bloody lip. Though all his body was still on fire from the last rune, he felt the sharp pain on his lip where Malachi’s thumb brushed over it, pressing forcefully down on the cut. Malachi grabbed his chin brutally to force him to meet his gaze.

“Do you want a fifth rune, Jonathan?” Jace tried his best to remain silent an unmoving, though all he wanted was to beg Malachi to stop. But showing weakness towards Malachi was never gaining anything.

“Ah, still the stubborn little boy you used to be. But we will get to it, don’t you worry. I’ve trained more stubborn pets than you.”

His thumb was circling again Jace’s abused lip and even if Jace had tried, he had no place to retrieve. His head was already pressed hard against the floor, but he didn’t open his mouth. When he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, he gasped in surprise and pain. Malachi smiled cruelly and pressed his thumb inside Jace’s slightly parted lips, pressing his tongue down until he nearly choked. With his other hand, he twisted the dagger he had slammed inside the boy, smiling when he felt his body squirm under the pain.

“So who is this Alec boy? You whimpered his name so prettily, Jonathan. Did he also make you choke?”

 _Fuck._ He must have given Alec’s name away and Jace knew Malachi would use it against him. But he was not about to give him more.

“Fuck you” he spat instead.

“Don’t worry, we will come to that, too. But first we will have some more fun.”

Jace’s eyes must have betrayed him, as Malachi chuckled again when he looked at him.

“Look at you, you look so pretty when you are scared.”

“What do you want?” Jace did his best to suppress all trembling in his voice. He was not sure if he really succeeded.

“I want you, Jonathan. Oh, not really you. I need you special abilities the Angel’s gifted to you. Or shall I say _I_ gifted to you by experimenting on your dear mother?”

Jace sucked in a breath before he felt the hissing pain again when the cold Stele met his bare chest again, placed at the exact same spot the last rune had been. He couldn’t help but scream when the rune was completed and the pain shot through his body like wildfire.

***

Alec’s body twisted with agony, yet he knew that he felt only a fraction of what Jace must feel. The bond announced when one was in pain to alert the other of the danger, but each Parabatai learned to mute the bond, to tune the feelings down, otherwise they would not be able to function when one was severely wounded. Yet, somehow, it felt wrong for Alec to mute Jace’s pain out, even though the others, especially Magnus urged him to do it. He knew they wanted to protect him, but Jace needed him. It was clear that he was tortured by his capturers. In addition, something was off with their bond. Though he could feel the pain, he was not able to locate him or push any feelings from his side through it. It worried Alec how this must feel for Jace. Normally when they were too far away in times of pain, the other would at least push reassurance or calmness through the bond, something to let the other know that he was not alone. But it was as if there was a block on Jace’s side.

***

They had left Clary in Izzy’s care and had reported back to Maryse and Robert about what had happened at Lake Lyn. The Lightwoods had informed the Clave, it had been not an easy pill to swallow for them to realize that one of the Circle masterminds had apparently not only lived among them, but had also held a position of power.

As the Soul Sword was gone the Clave had to rely on Clary’s memories, they could not question her with the sword. But luckily they had been able to capture on of the Consul’s guard members, who could be convinced by applying the agony rune for a couple of times to talk more about the set-up of the old and new Circle. Unfortunately, he also stated that Jace was not Michael Wayland’s son but Valentine’s and therefore knew Malachi.

After this, the initial search and rescue order for Jace was transformed into a kill order. Without any further discussion, the Clave proclaimed Alec’s Parabatai a traitor, who had run to Malachi out of his free will, no matter how often Clary told them that Jace had sacrificed himself for her safety and freedom. It was the first time Alec realized that beneath the annoying surface, there was a fierce personality with a huge loyalty hidden. It shocked Alec to see that in an instant nearly all Shadowhunters turned on Jace, stating that they had known something had been off with Jace all along. Even his own parents, Jace’s legal guardians, turned away from him the second it was a political necessity. Alec couldn’t care less about politics or the game of power his parents played so readily. It was Jace’s life on the line and he would do anything to bring him back. He had always played by the rules, but he was done with that.

Unfortunately, all his attempts to track down Jace were in vain. He tried the usual Parabatai tracking, even the dangerous tracking via an adamas stone, Magnus tried all tricks which he had up his sleeves – but yet, Jace seemed to be swallowed by the earth. The guard member had given them a location, but when they had arrived there, it had already been cleared out and empty, only burned ground announced that there had been a camp. There was nothing left to cast a tracking rune, even warlock tracking led to nothing. The longer it took them to find Jace, the more antagonized Alec got. Finally he had muted the bond to a degree to be still able to function, but he felt the constant pain Jace must be in. Whatever Malachi did to Jace, it was not yet over.

***

Jace was woken up by a sharp kick to his kidneys. He tried to curl into a ball to avoid more kicks, but his attackers just laughed at his futile attempt. One grabbed his shoulders to hurl him up into a sitting position, so that the others could aim their punches and kicks better. Most of the time, Malachi himself dealt with Jace, but sometimes he let his men take a turn, to their great pleasure. When a fist connected with his jawline, the blond grunted in pain.

He had lost track of time. There was no rhythm to his imprisonment. Sometimes he felt like they kept him up for hours without food or water, sometimes he was fed more regularly and even allowed to sleep. His cell was always dark, there was no ray of daylight so he had no clue if it was night or day. He guessed it was on purpose, to keep him clueless how long he was already at Malachi’s mercy. Unfortunately, it worked.

Jace wondered how much time had passed already. It felt like a lifetime. At the beginning, he had hoped for a rescue mission, Clary must have been able to point in the right direction. At least he knew she was alive, as he had heard the discussions among the guard. He couldn’t help the proud feeling when he had learned that she had indeed stopped Valentine and killed him in the process.

As they were not surrounded by water, the only set up which prevented tracking flawlessly, he had suspected that someone would be able to track him and come for him. If not someone else, Alec should had been able to track him. Their bond allowed better tracking than any other method, but so far no one had come. Their bond had been acting strange anyhow, throughout his tournament, he had not felt anything from Alec, no sign of reassurance or affection. He knew Alec was alive, the Parabatai rune stood as black against his pale skin as ever. But he couldn’t feel him anymore and he wondered if this was due to something Malachi had done or if Alec had blocked him. And if so, why he would do such a thing, during a time Jace needed him the most?

The next punch broke Jace’s nose, he felt the blood running down this throat and into his mouth. The metallic taste of his own blood was familiar to him by now. The sound of heavy footsteps announced a new arrival and though Jace had not seen who entered the cell yet, he knew it was Malachi. By now, he could distinguish the sounds he made from any other of the men.

“Who is responsible for this?” Malachi’s deep voice rang threatening through the stony cell. The three men who had been working on Jace had stepped back, their arms crossed behind their backs like the good soldiers they were. The one who had punched Jace in the face turned a purple red and avoided Malachi’s gaze. Jace smirked, Malachi didn’t like his face to get bruised or bloodied, at least not by anyone other than himself. Malachi liked Jace pretty.

Malachi looked threatening. He had dark, unruly black hair, broad shoulders and muscled arms and legs. But the most peculiar were his piercing light blue eyes, which had the color of frozen water after a storm. The men who was responsible for Jace’s desolate face tried to stammer an apology, but before he could even start, Malachi buried one of his daggers in his side and twisted the hilt, smiling cruelly at the pain he caused. The man was not dead, an Iratze would erase the harm, Malachi had too few men to waste a life like that. Yet, he would not allow any disobedience.

“Out.” The two standing men were quick to retreat, dragging their bleeding comrade with them. The Consul’s cold gaze focused on Jace, who had managed to remain in the sitting position. He panted slightly, the kicks to his rips and kidneys had left him breathless.

“Stand up.”

Jace sighed inwardly, but knew better than to disobey a direct order. He pushed himself up, trying to stand stable despite his hurting lower body and bound wrists. Malachi stepped closer. With a nearly gentle hand he groped Jace’s face, feeling if his jaw was also broken or only his nose. He ran his fingers down the blond’s nose and with a forceful push, he snapped the broken bone back in place. He smiled at the low hiss Jace couldn’t help but let out. He continued to wipe away the blood, which had already started to dry on Jace’s smooth skin. With a smirk he spat at Jace’s face, to use his spit to clean him. The blond shuddered, forcing down the bile he felt raising.

“There. Open your mouth now, pet.”

Jace pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Still so stubborn. I thought we would be further by now.” Malachi’s gentle voice mocked his harsh words and actions. He grabbed Jace’s chin hard, one hand pressed into a still open wound on his side, the other forced his mouth open. When the pain got too overwhelming and a groan escaped the blond, Malachi held his lips open to spit inside, before forcing the boy to close his mouth again to swallow, one finger still buried in the wound, the other massaging his throat lightly.

“You are mine, Jonathan. And you will do as I say.”

“Fuck you.” Jace glared at him defiantly. If Malachi thought that he was still the little boy of 14 who had done anything to please him, he was wrong. He was no longer Jonathan, he was Jace now and he would not submit so easily. No matter how often he tortured him, beat him, did other things to him – he was not yet at his breaking point.

“Oh, you still think that someone will come for you, don’t you, Jonathan? But tell me, where is the Clave? Where is your precious Parabatai?” The small flicker of Jace’s eyes indicated that he had hit a sensitive spot.

“Oh yes, I know who your Alec is. Your _Parabatai._ ” His tone was mocking and the way he said Parabatai sounded more than an insult than anything else. He pushed Jace against the wall, one hand still around his throat, the other was painfully scratching along his Parabatai rune on his hip, leaving bloody trails over the black outline of the rune where his nails broke skin. “So tell me, why is he not coming for you? We all know that Parabatai tracking is one of the strongest tracking measures. Do you even feel him?”

Jace tried to not let his own fears surface, he knew if he showed that the older man had a valid point, it would only get worse.

“But I think we both know why he is not coming, Jonathan, don’t we. You were never worth of staying, why would you be worth of coming? Why would your precious Parabatai even bother? Probably he is glad to be rid of you, the burden he had to carry for too long already. I am sure he is busy fucking his filthy warlock. Or does he prefer to be fucked? Oh, I see, you don’t know. Have you not been good enough for him? He who fucks a filthy Downworlder was not ready to fuck his own Parabatai? Oh Jonathan, he will never come for you. Never.”

“You know nothing about Alec.”

“Oh, I know enough, little pet. First, I know he has not yet come for you, even if it’s been days since I have abducted you. Second, I know he is shutting down his side of the bond. Don’t even pretend it is not like that. I have seen your pathetic attempts to get comfort through your rune. Third, I know he doesn’t care and considers you a traitor just at the rest of the Clave.”

Jace’s eyes widened at that. No, it was not possible.

“Oh yes, let me show you something. Something about your _Parabatai.”_

Malachi whistled and a warlock stepped into the cell, a Shadowhunter from the New York Institute in tow, who was apparently a spy for the Consul.

“Show him.” Malachi sounded gleeful, while he stepped out of Jace’s sight, fisting one hand in the blond’s hair until Jace felt tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, forcing him to look at the desired direction.

The warlock hold one hand to the temple of the Shadowhunter, who trembled forcefully and tried to scoop away. The warlock seemed not impressed, with a snap of his fingers the Shadowhunter froze in place, with another he projected the spy’s memories on the stony cell wall.

Jace gulped when he saw Maryse talking to Alec. Alec had his usual soldier like stance, legs hip width apart and his hands crossed behind his back. Maryse seemed angry, her face showed red freckles and her eyes were pressed into narrow slits.

“Jace is a traitor. He betrayed everyone of us by not telling us who his real father is. He is Valentine’s son. The Clave declared him a traitor, and I truly believe he is. You need to cut him loose, Alec. He is not our blood. He is not your blood!” Her words cut the air like a whiplash.

Jace watched Alec gulp and lick his lips. “No, he is not my blood.” Jace froze at that statement. It had been hurtful to watch that apparently the whole Clave considered him a traitor, despite the sacrifice he had made. It hurt even more that his adoptive mother considered him an outcast without contemplating other possibilities. But that Alec agreed and didn’t defend him, hurt more than anything Malachi had done to him so far.

Malachi had watched him closely during the little display and smirked knowingly. He leaned in closely, his lips brushing over Jace’s jaw before he whispered in a nearly seductive voice into his ear, sending goose bumps across the blond’s spine.

“See Jonathan. No one cares about you. No one will bother to come for you. You are mine, you have always been mine.”

“No.” Jace didn’t know where he got the strength from, but he wouldn’t give in. Maybe Alec didn’t care about him anymore, but this didn’t mean he would pledge himself to Malachi. Not again.

“Turn around” Malachi hissed in Jace’s ear, his tone had switched from mockingly caring to ice cold. Slowly, the blond obliged, not really feeling what was happening, his whole body had gone numb. He didn’t feel the pain when Malachi slammed his face into the stone wall leaving a small trail of blood behind where his nose broke the second time that day and he barely registered the unbuckling of a belt.

***

When Malachi was done with Jace, he stepped out of the cell. The warlock, Malcom Fade, waited for him.

“Why don’t you just put him under the spell?”

Malachi gritted his teeth, he didn’t like to admit that even he made mistakes. His mistake had been to underestimate Jonathan, underestimating the relevance of the time he had spent with other people then him and his father.

“He will break.”

“But is it soon enough? We need his skills. We are clearly outnumbered by the Clave, but with him we stand a chance.”

Malachi stepped closer, invading the personal space of Fade. “He. Will. Break. Never question my judgment.”

Malcom Fade had stepped back, yet he didn’t seem terrified. “I know you need me, you can threaten your other underlings like that, but not me. You need me for the spell. If he doesn’t break.”

Malachi growled dangerously. It was true, he needed the warlock. He was the only one powerful enough to cast a spell, which would take away the complete will of the victim. It was basically what Malachi wanted to achieve with the Mortal Cup, create a soulless, fearless warrior, who did exactly what he wanted him to do. Only that the curse was only suitable for one person, the amount of magic needed drained the warlock, he was not able to contain more than one person under the spell. That was why he needed the Mortal Cup, to create an army of soulless, endarkened Shadowhunters, who were completely under his control. And to get the Cup, he needed Jace and his superior skills. And though he would use the spell if need be, he preferred to break Jace the traditional way.

He loathed the warlock, but right now he could not get rid of him. It had taken him a long time to drag down a warlock who despised the Clave and the Downworld at the same time and was powerful enough to help him with his goal. It had seemed like a futile mission, until he had stumbled over the story of Malcom Fade. Fade had loved a Shadowhunter several centuries back. In the past, such love was forbidden by the Clave and her family tricked her into becoming an Iron Sister, who were sworn to celibacy. The family told Fade she died to prevent him looking for her - and his friends, even his Downworld friends, betrayed him and covered the story up together with her family. They claimed to not cause him more pain, but Fade didn’t care. He had lost the love of his life and the Clave and the Downworld were both to blame for it. He had suffered in silence for hundreds of years, but when Malachi came up with a plan to punish them all, he readily jumped on it.

So far, Fade had proved himself useful. He had infused Jace’s handcuffs and shackles with magic, so that he was not able to use his Angelic powers to activate his runes, similar to the handcuffs that neutralized the magic of warlocks. He had sat up such powerful wards that even the best tracking couldn’t reach them and he had been able to mute the Parabatai bond, so that Jace couldn’t get any form of reassurance through it. Alec on the contrary was able to feel his pain, but not more. Malachi smirked, pleased at that thought.

“He will break.” Without casting the warlock another look, Malachi turned around and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter into two, as it really was getting too long. Hope you like it, as always I am thrilled to hear what you think.


	6. … all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes, their all that I can see

Alec looked at his mother, trying to conceal his rage. He clasped his hands forcefully together behind his back, not trusting himself what he would do when he let go of his own hands. He knew what was coming, his mother had told him several times already what her opinion of Jace was. Of the boy she had taken in and had promised to raise as her own and who she had worshipped for his skills merely weeks ago.

“Jace is a traitor. He betrayed every one of us by not telling us who his real father is. He is Valentine’s son. The Clave declared him a traitor, and I truly believe he is. You need to cut him loose, Alec. He is not our blood. He is not your blood!”

Alec couldn’t believe his ears. This went a step further than anything else she had said so far. Not alone that she condemned him, she expected him to do the same. He swallowed hard and licked his lips.

“No, he is not my blood. He is my Parabatai. He is so much more to me than only blood. And if you ever dare to speak to me again about cutting him lose, it’s going to be the last time we speak.”

Alec turned around and left the Institute without a further word. He needed to find Jace, and he needed to find him soon. But he had no idea how.

***

Alec woke up by his own screams; he was not sure, if a nightmare of his own had woken him or if Jace’s nightmare had swept through to his consciousness. He searched for a real connection in their bond, trying to push any kind of emotion towards his Parabatai, but again there was a kind of block, as if all emotions he tried to convey hit an invisible wall.

He felt his stomach revolt and urged up, barely in time to throw up into the sink instead of the floor. He felt tears prickling in his eyes, tears of frustration and fear. He carefully cleaned the sink before he looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror. His skin stood pale against the dark shadows under his eyes and the beard stubbles on his cheeks. He was so tired, he didn’t know when he last had slept soundly through the night. Most of the time he was awakened by phantom pain or nightmares, if he managed to fall at sleep at all.

He felt Magnus’s gaze on his back, but was too tired to turn around. He turned the cold water on and let it flow over his face, trying to wash away the images, which had woken him.

“You need to mute the bond, Alexander. This is killing you.” Magnus’ gentle voice rang through the air, but Alec didn’t hear the genuine concern in it, he just heard yet another person telling him to cut Jace loose. He gritted his teeth before he answered.

“This is none of your business. I will not mute our bond. He needs me.”

“It is my business, I see you wasting away Alexander. And keeping your end of the bond open when you cannot reach his side for whatever reasons doesn’t help. Not him, not you.”

Alec turned around slowly, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“What do you want to imply with _for whatever reasons?”_

“Nothing, Alexander. Just maybe consider that he does it on purpose. Be it to spare your feelings or maybe…”

“So this is what you think? You also believe he is a traitor?”

“I’m just saying that keeping your side open is not helping anyone. And he did hide his true father and that there was another mastermind beside Valentine in the Circle. He did ran towards Malachi instead of trying to flee together with Clary.”

Alec couldn’t believe it. He had expected his mother and father to react like that, but not Magnus.

“As if you tell everyone who your real father is, Magnus. He had his reasons to hide it and you know it. And he ran towards him to defend Clary. _His lost sister._ He would do anything for her. He would sacrifice anything for her. Because that is who he is. You don’t know anything about him. He is my Parabatai. I’m nothing without him.”

Magnus sighed, he was not getting anywhere here.

“Alexander.” His voice sounded soft, he stepped forward, holding his hand out to the Shadowhunter. “You are right, I barely know Jace. But I know you and if you trust him, I trust him, too. But you are not nothing without him. Just consider taking care of yourself better. You need to be strong.”

Alec huffed annoyed, but after a small second of hesitation, he took the outstretched hand and let himself be pulled into a tight hug. Magnus was not wrong, after all. He needed to take care of himself, he needed to be at his best when the day came to rescue Jace. And he was also right, so far he had not been useful, not all. Jace should have chosen a different Parabatai, one who was worthy of him. One who would have been able to locate him and rescue him. He just wished he could be this person, for Jace.

***

Jace lay awake in his cell, shivering slightly at the cold air surrounding him. He was tired but the mercy of sleep didn’t come easily to him these days. Though his body was exhausted, his mind kept racing. Over and over again the images of Maryse talking to Alec played in his head. He was sure that it had happened like that, he had seen warlocks extract memories like that before. He had also seen falsified memories, they always were a bit blurry around the edges and the images he had seen had been crystal clear, which meant they were true. Yet, they reminded him of the truths the fey told. His Alec would not say something like that. Or rather not only that. The memory had stopped abruptly after that statement of him not being Alec’s blood. Too abruptly to be a coincidence, Jace figured after rewatching the foreign memory again behind his eyelids. When Malachi was involved, Jace didn’t believe in coincidences. And the statement itself was true. They were not blood. They were Parabatai. Closer than blood. Jace sighed in relieve. Alec must have said something like that after his first statement. He just.

***

Malachi and his men had stopped to attack random Institutes or Shadowhunter homes. The losses were too severe and so far, they hadn’t found anything. But the spies in the Institutes and the Clave itself worked hard to gather more intel. Valentine’s death by the hands of his daughter had been a huge set back. The original plan had been to rise the Angel Raziel and destroy the Downworld with the help of the Angel, so that Malachi would have to deal only with the Clave. But with Valentine gone, he had to deal with both. For that, they needed the Cup, there was no way around it. He held his men at a tight leash. Everyone needed to be ready when the time to strike came along.

Finally, one of his men overheard a conversation between the Inquisitor and one of his followers, which allowed Malachi and the Circle to narrow down the location of the Mortal Cup. Either it was hidden in the Mexican Institute, the London Institute or the New York one. As they had already scanned the New York Institute, not fully but a great part of it, Malachi opted for the Mexican one to be their first priority.

The Mexican Institute was run by the Rosales family, an untraditional old Shadowhunter family with strong Alliances to the local Downworld. It would not be easy to preach their Institute with the manageable amount of Circle Shadowhunters he had under his command. Therefore, he needed Jace. And though he had doubled his efforts and used other torture methods than the agony rune and blunt beatings, the boy still resisted him. With an annoyed huff, he called for Malcom Fade. It was time the warlock proofed his real worth.

***

Two Shadowhunters, the Circle rune carved deeply into their necks, stepped into Jace’s cell, a knowing smirk on their lips. Before Jace knew what was happening, one pressed a needle into his cervix and the world around him went dark.

A cold splash of water woke him up. He coughed hard, some water had found its way into his mouth and lung. He tried to sit up to be able to breathe better, but he realized that he was bound tightly to a table. His ankles and wrists were each bound to one corner, metal rings had been added to the table for this exact purpose. Over his chest and thighs thick ropes were strapped, even his throat was fixed to the table. He couldn’t move an inch.

He felt Malachi’s hand ran over his sides and he tried to suppress a shiver. Malachi grabbed his chin and their eyes met, the ice cold stare of Malachi’s blue eyes giving the blond more goosebumps.

“I really wish we could have done this the traditional way, little pet. But even if you resist, you are mine. And after the warlock is done with you, you will be mine completely. You can say goodbye to Jace, Jonathan.”

Jace’s eyes widened at that, the small hint of regret in Malachi’s stern voice frightening him even more than the actual words. He didn’t really understand what Malachi was planning, but he barely had time to think over it before he saw Fade approach the table, pressing his hands against both sides of his head, murmuring a dark spell in a language totally foreign to Jace.

His lips formed a silent o when he felt penetrated by Fade’s dark, ice-cold magic, the instinct to get away from it overwhelming, but the shackles held him in place relentlessly. The warlock pressed on, his murmuring becoming more feverish and intense, the words spilled rapidly from his mouth. The pressure in Jace’s mind increased, in the distant he heard someone scream. He wondered who was screaming, but before he could realize that he heard his own screams, the world around turned into one full of shadows and the screams faded. He opened his eyes slowly, realizing just then that he had pressed them shut tightly. He looked around, a confused look on his face.

“Hello, Jonathan.”

At that, the confusion left his gaze and he focused on Malachi. Without blinking or looking at the other men in the room, he said the words Malachi had longed to hear for so long.

“My master.”

***

Alec was in the middle of a briefing when he gasped in surprise. His hand shot to his Parabatai rune at his hip. It was not pain what he felt, it was something else. Something worse, which he couldn’t quite explain. As if Jace had slipped totally away from him, as if he no longer existed. Yet, the rune was as black as ever. Alec had to concentrate hard on his breathing to channel the panic he felt rising in his body. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

It was later that day when the aweful news from Mexico reached the New York Institute. The Circle had attacked the Institute and slaughtered nearly all Shadowhunters based there. They had teared the place apart to find the Mortal Cup, though they had not been successful, as one of the few survivors told the Clave. The Mortal Cup was hidden elsewhere.

Alec had felt nauseous the whole day, as if he was coming down with the flue. But Shadowhunters didn’t catch the flue or any other mundane sicknesses. But he felt shaky, drained as if he had exercised for too long, he definitely felt weaker than he should. He had no idea what was happening to him.

The news hit him hard, like the others in New York. They didn’t have tight bonds with the Rosales in Mexico, yet they knew some of them. Had known, better to say. But what bothered Alec more than the deaths of fellow Shadowhunters, was the fact who had led the attack, according to the survivors. The description of the Shadowhunter in charge could only match one person. Bicolored eyes, superior skills unlike any Shadowhunter had ever witnessed, blond hair. Jace. But this couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be him. Jace would never do anything like that. Despite what everyone wanted to believe, Alec knew he was not a traitor.

***

Alec looked at the blond girl in front of him, Emma Carstairs. She was the same age than Clary and had visited them quite a few times. She lived in L.A. and was closely connected to the Rosales, especially to Cristina Rosales the daughter of the Heads. She had been visiting Mexico during the attack and thankfully made it out alive, thanks to her quick-wittedness, her ruthlessness and last but not least, her famous sword Cortana, which could cut anything as the legends told. Both girls had survived and were currently treated in the L.A. infirmary.

When Alec had heard about them being witness to the attack, he had asked a warlock located at the Institute to portal him there. He had to talk to someone who knew Jace and could confirm – or better deny – that he had been there. Unfortunately, he was not granted that wish.

“So you are absolutely sure that it was him, Emma?”

“I’m sorry Alec, but yes. I’ve seen Jace often enough to recognize him. But something was off with him. He didn’t seem like himself.”

“What do you mean?” Alec sounded distressed. He pressed at his rune, trying to swallow down the nausea, which hit him like a wave again.

“I cannot really describe it, Alec. But he seemed… different. His eyes were like dead. I’m sorry.” Alec couldn’t stand the pity in her eyes when their gaze met. Emma was a Parabatai herself. She could imagine what he was going through, maybe better than anyone else.

“Don’t worry, Emma. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t.

***

Alec barely made it through the day. He avoided his mother, he didn’t think he could stand another “You have to cut him loose” talk. The news of Jace leading the attack had travelled like wildfire and the complete Institute believed it, even those who had originally stood by him – with the exception of Clary, Izzy and Alec. Clary was as insistent as Alec that it couldn’t be Jace, that there must be something which wasn’t visible to the eye. And all Izzy said was:

“He is my brother.” With a look towards Clary, she added “He is our brother. Nothing will change that.”

Alec was relieved to have them in his corner, but he was nevertheless grateful when he could collapse into his and Magnus’ bed at Magnus’ loft. By now, he spent more nights at the loft than in the Institute, the Institute feeling hostile and lonely without Jace in the room next to his.

But even laying down, the constant nausea didn’t waver. His body was so exhausted, it didn’t take him long to fall into an uneasy sleep, even though it was only early evening. He twisted from one side to another, bubbling incoherent words.

He gasped when he felt a warm hand on his hot, sweaty skin.

“Magnus” he breathed, trying to understand where he was. It took him a while to realize he was at Magnus’ loft. _Home_ his brain wanted to supply, but it didn’t feel quite right.

“What’s wrong, Alexander? You are burning.” Alec just shook his head. He had no idea what was wrong. He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Magnus sighed and brushed Alec’s damp hair out of his face. “I assume you have heard about Jace.”

Alec couldn’t do more than nod, but after a short period of silence he carried on, trying to explain the strange feeling he had had the whole day.

“Something is off with Jace. It’s not he who is doing it. I can feel it in our bond, there is something wrong.”

“It’s making you sick.”

“I guess so. And I know, I _should_ mute it now.”

Magnus’ closed briefly his eyes. “Just be prepared that Jace won’t come back. Even if it is not him, even if someone is doing that to him and with him – be prepared that maybe he is too far gone to come back.”

Alec shook stubbornly his head. “He will come back. He is not dead, that means he can come back.”

“It’s not always that simple.”

“Since when has anything ever been simple?” Alec rubbed exhaustedly over his eyes. He was tired to the bones. It would be so easy to lean into Magnus now, taking the comfort the older man was offering so freely. Yet, it would be so wrong. Alec had known, or maybe better felt, for quite a time now that even if he really wanted to love Magnus, he just didn’t. He liked him, he liked him a lot. He valued his opinion, the comfort he was offering, the world he had shown him. But no matter how often you told yourself and others the same lie, it didn’t make it the truth. And the truth was, he didn’t love Magnus. He was still in love with Jace.

“I’m sorry Magnus, but this isn’t working.” He sounded defeated, the tiredness and hopelessness sweeping into his voice.

“What is not working?” Magnus sounded alarmed, yet still calm.

“Us. You deserve someone who truly loves you, Magnus. And I’m just not that person. I really tried, but you deserve better than trying. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“You are still in love with Jace.” It was not a question, it was a statement. Magnus sighed. When he had dived into the relationship with Alec, he had known that the other had still feelings for his Parabatai, he just hadn’t known how deep they ran.

The two men stared at each other for a moment.

“I truly hope that he is worthy of your love, Alexander. That he is the man you think he is.”

A sad smile crossed Alec’s face. “He is.” There was no hint of a doubt. Alec pushed himself up, swaying a little as the nausea hit him with full force again. And just like that, the decision was clear. He muted the bond completely, at least as far as he could. He needed to be strong for his Parabatai. There must be a solution to bring him back from whichever place he currently was. There just.

Even after Alec closed the bond completely, he still felt that he was not on top of his game. Whatever was going on with Jace, it affected him through the bond, despite his effort to shut his side down. But he had never been as good as Jace in blocking their bond completely, too depending on the need to be close to him. A fact, which backfired now.

***

The news of the next attack, this time in London, travelled fast. Again, the attack had been allegedly let by Jace. It took this second attack and 20 dead Shadowhunters, to change the tactic of the Clave. So far, they had followed the initial plan to keep everyone in the dark where the Cup was hidden. Finally, they confessed to Maryse, who was the official Head of the Institute, that the Cup was hidden in the New York Institute. There was a small, hollow place under the floor in the hall of the Ops center, where the Mortal Cup was hidden. Only runes could open it.

The problem was, the Clave had never really prepared for enemies among their own, the Institutes were highly protected against Downworlders or demons – but not against fellow Shadowhunters. Even after their first run in with the Circle so many years back, the Clave had been arrogant enough to believe that that had been a single incident and would not repeat itself. And here they were. The wards, as powerful as they were, protected only against demon blooded enemies, they would allow any Shadowhunter to enter. To alter the wards would take days, maybe weeks. No one believed they had that long.

Maryse applied a new, especially strong locking rune to the hidden chamber to protect the Mortal Cup. Only the person who applied it should be able to open it. And they geared up for battle. All Institutes around the globe had the same orders, as no one really knew where Malachi would strike next, if they had a real lead, which would bring him to New York.

The two Lightwood siblings and Clary had different plans. They were still desperately searching for a means to locate Jace and rescue him from his abductors. Yet, all their efforts were in vain. The good thing was, they didn’t need to bother to find Jace. Jace found them.

***

Malachi looked proudly at his pet, who was organizing the next and final attack to gain the Mortal Cup. Jonathan’s posture was strict and sharp, 100% the warrior he was meant to be. His warrior. He had gambled with the health of his mother during her pregnancy with Jonathan and later with Clary, but it had turned out right. Jonathan’s skills were incredible and Malachi believed that in the right hands – his hands – there were still powers to unleash. In the end, the warlock had been right to put him under the spell. Jonathan was the perfect soldier now, no fears, no worries, no consciousness – no soul. He just did what needed to be done to achieve the goal he had been given.

Yet, he kind of missed the old Jonathan. The defiant boy, who had been such a delightful toy to play with. After the first attack, he had forced Fade to remove the spell. Malachi had watched gleefully when the realization had hit Jace that he had killed countless fellow Shadowhunters in cold blood. The look of horror and disgust with himself had been worth the removal. Jace had been bound tightly before the spell had been removed, so that he could do no harm. Malachi thought he would never forget the moment when the blond’s cold stare turned into one of pain and agony. His lips still switched into a light smirk remembering their conversation afterwards.

“Look what you have done, Jonathan. Do you remember? Do you remember killing all those people? Do you remember their screams for mercy and you giving them your blade instead?”

Jace had tried to avoid his gaze, blinking back sharply the tears, which wanted desperately to fall, but the Consul had grabbed his head, forcing him to look at him.

“They all think of you as a monster now, Jonathan. They will hunt you and put you down like the dog you are.” Malachi had chuckled lightly at the tears, which had been streaming down his face now, all attempts to suppress them fruitless. Almost gently, he had licked away the tears, savoring the salty taste before he had brutally kissed Jace, biting down on his lip until both tasted the metallic flavor of blood.

***

After the second attack on the London Institute, Malachi had not been able to refrain from the urge to remove the spell again, Jace’s pain and sorrow too tempting to ignore, even though Fade had complained about it, stating that it got riskier with every time he had to cast the spell anew. Riskier that he would damage Jace in the process and riskier to weaken the spell itself, that Jace would not be under Malachi’s full control.

But when Malachi watched Jonathan acting now, he was sure to be fully in control. He was not more than a willing killing machine, designed by his own hands. His smirk increased.

***

The red alarm rang loudly through the halls and chambers of the New York Institute. All Shadowhunters had already been armed when the bells had gone off, yet Malachi’s army had preached the wards easily, the wards recognizing them as one of their own. A huge red portal stood in the entrance hall and Circle members were pouring out of it. Sporadic arrows flew at them, but the resistance was not well organized, though Maryse should have had enough time to prepare them. Yet, she had failed, her lack in tactics clear visible now. The New York Shadowhunters tried to form a battle formation, meanwhile more and more Circle members flooded the Institute.

Alec gasped softly when he saw his Parabatai. Nothing had prepared him for his arrival, the rune on his hip was silent, the usual humming, which announced closeness between the two Shadowhunters was completely missing. Instead, he felt the nausea in his stomach increase. The irritated emotions he felt through their bond made Alec sick.

Jonathan stood with his legs apart, straight back, his head slightly bowed to the left where the man stood who was clearly in charge, the man who had been a Clave Consul and betrayed them all. Jonathan’s mismatched eyes scanned the room, but his full attention was not on the room, it was on Malachi.

Malachi whistled and Jonathan leaped into action. His whole body lit up in a golden glow and he urged forward, two gleaming blades in hands. Soon the blades were not glowing golden anymore, but covered in crimson red.

Hell broke loose and the air was thick with the sound of the dying and wounded and the taste of blood. Blood of the innocent and blood of the guilty, death didn’t distinguish between them.

Through the chaos, Alec tried to come near his Parabatai, still in the hope to be able to pull him out of his state. It seemed Jonathan knew where the Cup was hidden, as he went straight towards the Ops Center, the most resourceful Circle members in tow. Jonathan cut easily through the enemies who dared to step in his way, leaving them dead or wounded behind, not caring either way.

The Ops center itself was not well stuffed, only a few Shadowhunters who had seen the best of their fighting days had remained there to monitor the battle. Jonathan didn’t even bother to kill them, as they didn’t fight him, he just ordered his men to take them as prisoners. As soon as Malachi had the Mortal Cup, he needed Clave Shadowhunters to build his army, so better not to kill them all. Jonathan indeed knew where the Cup was supposed to be hidden, this much their spy had been able to tell. A hidden secret chamber in the floor. With a slight smirk, Jonathan stepped closer, his eyes searching for a rune carved into stone, which should protect the Cup but also indicated its location. Jace heard the fight increase outside the hall. Quickly, he scanned the room further and when he had found what he was looking for, he bent down, not bothering to draw his Stele. His bare hand touched the protective rune and it lit up, as Jace had believed it would, his Angelic powers overruling everything else. The stone slid to the side and there it was. The Mortal Cup. He reached for it and curled his hand around the cold, grey metal. The Cup didn’t look special, but as soon as Jace had led his fingers on it, he felt the power evaporating from it. It was the real Cup, he was sure of it.

He scooped the Mortal Cup up and turned around the exact moment Alec stormed into the room, followed by Izzy. Jonathan looked at the siblings with a blank gaze. He knew who they were, Isabelle and Alexander Lightwood, the children of the current Heads. But he didn’t _know_ them anymore. He didn’t care who they were, as he didn’t remember what they had been to each other. All he knew was that now they had the Cup, they should rather disarm and capture than kill. But before he could lunge at them, he heard Malachi’s cold voice rang through the Institute. Except the still armed Izzy and Alec, all others Shadowhunters were dead, wounded or defeated. Malachi offered them to survive if they would lay down their weapons and surrender. After a silent exchange, the siblings followed the order, their blades falling to the ground with a loud clutter. Alec tried desperately to gain the blond’s attention, but he didn’t even look once at him. As if Alec was not even there, a thought which frightened Alec even more than the fact that he and the whole Institute were defeated and at the mercy of a psychotic maniac.

Izzy and Alec were both standing with a defiant look on their faces. In Alec’s eyes the clear plea was visible a plea for any trace of the old Jace, of his Parabatai. Without any sign of hesitation or remorse, Jonathan strolled over to them.

“On your knees.” He ordered coolly. Both siblings just stood there, watching him carefully but not obeying. Jonathan frowned, not used to be openly disobeyed.

“I said, on your knees.” With that, he kicked Alec brutally against his kneecap, causing the raven boy to scream with pain. The blond slammed his fist into his Parabatai’s jaw, nearly breaking it with one blow. But he was not done yet. He kicked him once more in his kidneys, before he grabbed him by the hair and hauled him into a kneeling position. Next to him, Izzy had dropped on her knees.

“There. Was it that hard? Bind them” Jonathan ordered his men, leaving a trembling Izzy and a bleeding Alec behind to find his own master to hand over the Mortal Cup.

***

Malachi smiled at himself. Finally, after all this years of cunning and planning, he had achieved his goal. He had the Mortal Cup to create an unbeatable army to throw over the Clave. And he had Jonathan. He had not been lying when he had told the 14-year-old boy that he had been his favorite pet 5 years back. He still was. Therefore he just couldn’t resist to see him break a little more. Even though Fade told him outright that it was madness to remove the spell again, just to play his little mind games, but Malachi was too drunken with his success to listen. And too tempted to see the stony angelic features turn into a mask of horror again. He didn’t fear losing control of Jonathan - he had been told how Jonathan had beaten up Alec, if this was not sign of his complete control, what was?

Eventually, the warlock did as he was told and removed the spell. It took Jonathan a bit longer to turn into Jace this time. Malachi chuckled when he saw his eyes turning from confused into horrified. A small groan escaped the blond, before he could control himself.

“Welcome back, little pet. I see you remember what you’ve done. Ts, ts, killing your old friends is not a good thing to do. And beating your own Parabatai like that. Have you seen the betrayed look on his face?”

Jace couldn’t help but whimper. He remembered. He had done all those things, though he had not been given a choice. He even remembered the way Alec’s jaw had felt under his fist, the yelp, which had escaped Alec’s mouth. He closed his eyes in dismay. He didn’t know if he was able to take more, but with Malachi, there was always more.

“We will play a funny little game now, Jonathan. For being such a good boy, you are allowed to pick one out of three – one of your two sisters or your precious Parabatai will survive and she or he can rule beside us. The rest is going to die. You will kill them of course. So whom will you choose, little one? Your true blooded sister which you barely know? Your sister who fought so fiercely for you and stood by you the whole time? Or your beloved Parabatai, who was too busy fucking the disgusting warlock to come for you? Who will it be, Jonathan?”

If Jace had thought it was not possible to feel much worse, he had been mistaken. He couldn’t make that choice. It was impossible.

“No, please. Don’t make me do that. Please. Let them live. Don’t make me choose.”

A smirk played around Malachi’s mouth. He brushed over Jace’s blushed lips with his thumb before leaning in, whispering in his ear. “Then beg, Jonathan. Beg prettily and I won’t make you choose. If I’m not satisfied…” He took Jace’s lip and twisted it, until the dry skin broke and started to bleed lightly.

Even though Jace didn’t mean any of the words he was about to say now, he knew he had to make them count. He could not choose between the three people he loved the most in the world, each in his own way.

“Please Malachi. Please make me yours. I want to be yours. Please.”

Malachi growled darkly, before he claimed Jace’s lips in a bruising kiss, finally believing the blond was about to break.

Yet, when he was done with him, he made sure to call the warlock again. He knew Jace was not yet ready to go without the spell. Before the warlock muttered the first words of the spell and the cold magic could cloud Jace’s consciousness one more time, Malachi leaned in, laughing darkly.

“Don’t worry, Jonathan. You’ll see, tomorrow it will be very easy for you to choose who is going to survive – and who is going to die.”

Malachi smiled a genuine smile when Jace’s eyes widened in horror, knowing that Malachi had played him – and that he was right. As Jonathan, he would choose very easily.

***

Malachi stood relaxed in the middle of a huge room, Jonathan by his side, as he watched three of his men bring in the prisoners. Except for Alec, who had still blood smeared all over his face from the attack yesterday, they were unharmed. They were not bound, but each guard pressed a blade to their throats.

Jonathan watched emotionless as his two sisters and his Parabatai were brought to him. He had no idea what was going on, but as Malachi had not given him the permission to speak, he kept his silence. He didn’t care much anyway, his master was the one to decide.

Gleefully, Malachi clapped into his hands.

“Well then, let’s get started. I have an army to build after all. But first I wanted this little family reunion to happen. Isn’t it lovely to be together again.”

“Jace” Alec started, but a brutal punch to his head made him stop and sink to one knee. In addition to the punch, the nausea hit him more than ever, being so close to this endarkened version of Jace.

“Shut up, or next your sister will be punished.”

Alec bit his lip, but kept quiet for now, even though the pain in his head was throbbing and it only increased when the man behind him pulled him up again by his hair.

“Jonathan, you probably don’t remember, but as I told you yesterday, you are allowed to keep one of them. Which one will you keep? Shush” He added, holding one hand out. “Don’t tell me. Surprise me. Kill the other two. Now.”

Jonathan stepped forward, his grip tight around his seraph blade. Alec’s eyes had gone wide at this order and at Jace’s readiness to follow.

“Jace” he begged. “Don’t make this decision. Just don’t.” Jace had stepped closer towards Alec at that, facing him. Alec thought he saw a flicker in his otherwise unmoving eyes. “Jace” Alec said softly. “Don’t. And if you must, kill me. That’s fine.” Alec was not entirely sure, but he could have sworn that Jace mouthed a silent “ _I’m sorry, Alec”_ in his direction. Their eyes locked, holding on to each other.

Jonathan gripped the blade even harder and raised his arm, ready to strike.

Alec groaned in pain when the blade entered the body, a look of shock and despair in his eyes before a scream escaped his mouth.


	7. Show me a Garden that's bursting into Life

The moment the blade entered Jace’s own body, the moment Alec felt all nausea leaving his own. He felt the pain Jace was in and he heard himself scream, yet, the most overwhelming feeling was the sudden urge of power. It felt like his whole body lit up with fire, every single rune on his body burned with the familiar mixture between pleasure and pain, as if he had activated them with his Stele. He looked at his Parabatai with a mixture of awe and horror. With using the blade against himself, Jace had managed to break free of the spell and activate Alec’s runes with his Angelic powers in the process.

Though his eyes were still glued on Jace’s, both boys holding on to each other with their gaze, pouring all unsaid emotions in this one look, Alec elbowed the guard behind him in the face with all his force. He barely registered the yelp of pain, before he went for the spare seraph blade the man had hidden at his side. The guard had no time to contemplate what was happening, Alec had already turned around and buried the blade deep in his chest and before the man hit the ground, he was already dead. With his other arm he had drawn a dagger from the man’s belt and thrown it towards Clary’s guard, hitting him right in the eye. Just like the first one, this man dropped to the ground without having the chance to do any more harm.

Izzy had realized instantly what was happening and disarmed the guard behind her, as often underestimated by a man who had thought she was fair game and not one of the most skilled Shadowhunters of her generation. Alec was not surprised when he registered in the corner of his eye what his sister was doing. What would have surprised him, if he had paid attention to anything else than his Parabatai, was Clary. Without needing her Stele, a rune appeared on her hand, which she directed towards Malachi, who had drawn his Sword – but too late. The rune hit him full force and threw him into the next wall. Before he could recover from that blow, Izzy was already over him, kicking his sword away and pressing her own blade to his throat so forcefully that small drops of blood were running down his throat.

“Don’t move or I swear I’ll kill you,” she hissed, the despise clearly audible in her voice. Clary had also sprung forward, after she had taken two pairs of handcuffs from the belt of one dead guard. Izzy closed them around Malachi’s wrists and secured also his ankles, before she ripped Malachi’s shirt apart and stuffed it into his mouth as a gag, but not before she had kicked him several times in his rips.

With Malachi secured, Clary turned around to look at Alec and her brother – what she saw made her draw in a shaky breath.

***

Alec had seen his sisters break free and he trusted them enough to leave Malachi to them, as for him only one person mattered now. The bond between them hummed in excitement, finally open and free again, nearly as raw at as the beginning right after their runing ceremony. Yet all Alec could feel was fear and despair, accompanied by the pain Jace was in. The blond had sunken to his knees, his hands still on the hilt of the blade, which was buried deep in his stomach.

“Don’t” Alec yelled, but it was too late. Jace had already removed the sword with, which had closed the heavy wound. Without the sword, the blood spilled freely out of it, drenching his white shirt in seconds. Jace choked on a pained groan, coughing blood. Before he could collapse totally on the floor, Alec was by his side, his arms closing around him, stabilizing him. Jace leaned heavily on Alec, his breath ragged. Carefully, Alec placed Jace on the floor.

“Alec” Jace breathed, a gargling sound escaping his mouth.

“Sh, I’ve got you. Don’t leave me now Jace, you have to hold on. You have to.” His voice sounded panicked, but he couldn’t change it. He felt the bond tugging at him, as if Jace’s part of the soul was forced to leave, he felt Jace slipping away. Jace’s eyes fluttered shut, but Alec couldn’t allow that. He slapped his Parabatai hard in the face, feeling the sting of it on his own face and on his hand at the same time.

“Stay with me, Jace. Open your eyes. Look at me. Jace!” His tone was half begging, half commanding. Jace licked his dry, blood-crusted lips and forced his eyes open.

Alec drew an Iratze and a blood replenishing rune with his bare hand on Jace’s damp skin and the runes appeared and lit up, just to vanish a second later. With his other hand, he pressed his shirt against the wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. But nothing helped, the shirt was soaked in blood in an instant, the runes kept vanishing.

“Alec” Jace’s voice was barely audible anymore, blood was still dripping out of his mouth. It was a plea and Alec recognized it as such. And though all he wanted was to continue with this futile attempts to just do anything, Alec had never been one to ignore a plea from his Parabatai. With tears in his eyes he knelt beside him and scooped Jace up, resting the blond’s head on his chest, stroking his strained hair reassuringly.

“I’m here, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Jace lips turned into a small smile at these words, before he coughed blood again and his eyes rolled back in his head. He drew in a last painful breath before his eyes glazed over, the usual gleam and life gone, death slowly taking over.

Alec screamed in agony, he rocked the dead body of his love and Parabatai, his everything, back and forth, while his one hand didn’t stop combing through Jace’s hair.

Yet the worst didn’t happen for once. Instead of the expected snap of their Parabatai bond, Alec felt something else. Something strange and yet so familiar that he gasped in surprise. The bond felt fuller than ever before, the tagging had stopped, instead Alec could feel the bond pull, pulling the soul of Jace inside his own soul before it could escape Jace’s dead body and vanish into thin air. Alec’s soul felt stretched impossibly wide, it hurt and though Alec didn’t fully understand what was happening, he knew he had to hold on to this pain, to hold on to that impossible stretch. He breathed heavily with the strain, but he would never let go, no matter what it cost him.

***

Clary watched in horror Alec rocking Jace’s lifeless body back and forth. The inhuman scream indicated what just had happened. The brother she just had found, was dead. Her mother had died, the father she had never known had died at her own hands, as the Angel Ithuriel, who had guided her since she had entered the Shadow World, had commanded of her.

Clary watched Alec’s agony and felt her own and decided it was enough. She had done everything the Angel had asked of her, her brother had sacrificed everything he had. It was time, someone else sacrificed something.

She drew another rune on the inside of her hand and directed it towards the ceiling, towards heaven, before she fell to her knees, waiting for the Angel to come. Clary had always thought that angels were elflike, heartily creatures, she couldn’t have been more wrong. The brilliant beauty of an Angel was terrifying, too sharp and bright to be endured by the human eye. Angels were not peaceful or warm, they were warriors, merciless towards their enemies, sometimes generous to their followers. Clary just hoped she was considered the latter.

The whole room was suddenly bathed in an irritating, icy blue light, so bright Clary had to shield her eyes. She looked briefly at Izzy and Alec, but it seemed both of them could not see the Angel, who was slowly and gracefully entering the room from above. As the last time the Angel had visited her, Clary was terrified, yet, she tried to look directly at Ithuriel.

The Angel watched her, a mixture of annoyance and amusement on his marvelous features, too beautiful to look at for a longer time.

“What do you want, little human?”

Clary withstand the urge to clasp her hands over her ears. The sharp and clear sound of Ithuriel’s voice hurt, it rang too loudly and too intense in her ears. Angels were not made for communications with meaningless humans, even if the human in question carried more angelic blood than any other Shadowhunter.

“Please, Ithuriel, if I may ask for one wish? Just this one. I wish for Jace Morgenstern to live.”

The Angel had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why do you want him to live?”

“He is my brother. He deserves to live. Please. I did everything you asked of me. I killed my own father for you. Please, grant me this one wish.”

Ithuriel was hovering threatening above the still kneeling Clary. The redhead just looked at him as directly as the bright light allowed it, her eyes wide and honest. It was her only wish.

“It is not too late, my dear. His soul is still in this room, though it will soon be gone. I see that you are sure, that this is the one wish you want me to grant. There will be no more wishes, little human. Never again.”

Clary nodded feverishly. She didn’t need more wishes. She needed Jace alive.

“You want me to give one life. To balance the world, you have to take one.” The last words had been audible for Alec and Izzy as well. Even though they had not seen or heard the Angel before, Ithuriel had made sure that both of them subconsciously knew what he was talking about, what he wanted from them.

Alec rose to his feet, grabbing a blade, no sign of hesitation. The three guards were already dead, so only one person was left. One person to pay the final sacrifice to bring Jace back to life, and even if there would have been thousands others, Alec would have chosen Malachi above everyone. His soul was so interlined with Jace’s, he felt every pain and humiliation the Consul had put Jace through as if he had done it to himself. And in hurting his Parabatai, he kind of had.

With three huge steps, he stood in front of the still bound man. A merciless smile played on Alec’s lips. He felt Jace inside of him, an overwhelming feeling he would never forget. He felt his power, his fears, his insecurities, his hatred, his devotion. His love. His overwhelming love for his two sisters and himself. He felt everything. They were no longer one soul in two bodies, they were one interlined soul in one body. He wasn’t sure if he alone gripped the blade harder or if Jace helped him hold it, he just knew what he had to, what he wanted to do. He removed the gag and looked coldly at Malachi.

“Beg” he heard himself say, even though he was pretty sure it was Jace speaking.

Malachi looked at Alec wide eyed, he saw the burning rage in Alec’s brown eyes, but what truly terrified Malachi was the blue which lay beneath the warm hazel eyes. Unforgiving, blue eyes with just a hint of gold.

“Please” he stuttered, in a last attempt to outsmart the others by reminding them of their duties. “You are a Clave Shadowhunter. The accords say that you cannot kill me.”

“Not prettily enough” Alec stated, before he pressed his blade against Malachi’s throat. Alec had always played by the rules, but he had been done playing the moment someone had threatened to take Jace away from him.

“Say goodbye to life, Malachi, and hello to hell.”

With that, Alec cut Malachi’s throat. He felt the surprised and horrified look of Malachi on him while he cut through muscles, arteries and veins. Not deep enough that he died immediately, but deep enough that he would drown slowly in his own blood. Alec threw the blade carelessly away and sprinted back to Jace’s lifeless body. Instinctively he knew he had to push Jace’s soul back into his own body the moment Malachi drew in his last breath.

Only the gurgling sound of Malachi slowly drowning was audible in the room and when the final shiver ran over his body, Alec pressed his lips to Jace’s forehead and poured everything he had into the bond. Alec felt a tug again, but not a threatening one this time, it was just Jace’s side of the bond, reclaiming Jace’s soul. The glaze of death slowly left Jace’s unseeing eyes and the warmness returned into them. Jace’s wound had closed, the runes finally working. With a gasp the blond came back to life, his eyes glued to his Parabatai, while his lungs drew in the fresh air greedily.

“Alec.”

“Jace.”

It was all that needed to be said in this exact moment, where life and death melted into each other, this time the right people surviving it, the right sacrifice been made.

“One life has been taken, one life has been given. The balance of the world is in order.” Ithuriel’s last words rang holy through the room, before the Angel vanished and with him the glazing blue light, leaving the room strangely empty and dark.

But all Jace and Alec could feel where their contently humming bond, which lay as open and raw between them as on the first day. Their souls were more entwined than ever before, even though neither of them had thought that possible. Their hearts beat as one, synchronizing instantly. Jace’s hand was pressed to Alec’s rune, taking in the pulsating power, his breath slowly adapting the steady breath of Alec, losing the desperate need to draw in as much oxygen as possible, slowly adapting to life again. Tenderly Alec brushed one wisp of hair away, before he leaned in, resting their foreheads together, holding on tightly to each other, planning to never let go again.

***

In retrospect, Malachi’s superior mind had been the reason he rose, but also the reason he fell. Being his whole life smarter than anyone else, he had started to believe he was invincible. He had not listened to the warlock, which he regarded as inferior anyhow, who clearly had warned him that removing the spell too often weakened it. By giving in to his need to torture Jace just a little bit more by making him choose between his loved ones, his arrogance winning over common sense, he gave Jace the means to overcome a normally unbreakable spell. The spell itself was weakened already and the sacrifice Alec had been ready to make by allowing Jace to kill him, had given Jace the strength to break free of the puppet Jonathan, though he had to sacrifice his own life for it. Two sacrifices made out of love, the purest sacrifices of all.

The next thing Malachi had not thought of, as he had never been able to feel it himself, was the power of love. Alec had loved enough to keep Jace’s soul securely guarded in his own. Magnus had loved Alec enough to gift him a bracelet, infused with his own imprint of protective magic. Even though Malcom Fade had put up strong wards to prevent tracking, Magnus had been able to track his own magic back in the bracelet and therefore found the secret headquarter of the Circle, an old castle hidden in the deep forests of England.

For once, the Clave had listened to reason and the attack against the Circle had been led by a capable man, Andrew Blackthorn, the Head of the L.A. Institute. They even had asked their Downworld allies to accompany them and with their help, the battle had been short but brutal. Without Malachi or Jace present to lead them, they remaining Circle members had been killed or taken prisoner rather easily.

The most dangerous opponent had been Malcom Fade, who had nothing left to lose, a fact which made him the most potent enemy. But Magnus was not the High Warlock of Brooklyn for nothing – and a Prince of Hell, for that matter.

The battle between the two powerful warlocks was epic and would go into the history books as the Battle of the Warlocks. Blue magic clashed against crimson red, both warlocks throwing energy balls and spells at each other with one hand, deflecting the hostile ones with the other. Magnus stood calmly, diving deep into his magical resources, waiting for the slightest mistake of Fade. He deflected a powerful spell with a counter spell, when he saw Fade waver shortly, exhaustion written all over his face. He recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. Magnus was able to conjure the most powerful energy ball so far and with his full force, dipping deep into his inner magical core, he slammed it into the other warlock. Fade screamed when the magic burned into his skin and left only a small pile of dust and shadows behind.

Magnus sighed in relieve, needing to stabilize himself at the nearest wall. His magic ran dangerously low, he would not be able to do a lot more. Yet, he still had to find Alexander. Although the Shadowhunter had broken up with him, he wished him no harm. He was hurt, there was no way in denying it, yet he hoped that one day, Alec and he could pick up a friendship.

***

Magnus stormed into the huge room, Clave Shadowhunters in tow, yet he stopped abruptly. The picture was kind of grotesque. Izzy and Clary both stood motionless with blades ready in hand to protect their brothers, three guards lay dead on the ground and Malachi lay lifeless in a pool of blood, bound at wrists and ankles. Alec and Jace seemed more one person than two, both holding on to each other as for dear life. But the thing which startled Magnus the most, was the presence of a magic, he had never felt before.

He stopped abruptly, nearly causing the man behind him to bump into him. Though Izzy and Clary had lowered their weapons, they still held them. Alec and Jace had not yet acknowledged the fact that they had entered the room.

Before Magnus could say anything, the Inquisitor stepped forward, a self-righteous expression on his face.

“Jonathan Morgenstern, you are hereby under arrest for committing high treason against the Clave and murdering dozens of Shadowhunters. Bind him and escort him to the City of Bones” he ordered two of his men, who stepped tentatively forward.

The two girls had instantly raised their weapons again and taken a fighting stance. Alec had let go of Jace and risen too his feat, his whole demeanor threatening. He was covered all over in blood, dried blood of his own mixed with Jace’s fresh and Malachi’s acid blood. Without Alec’s support, Jace had clearly problems to sit straight. Whatever had happened to the blond, it had taken its toll.

“If you want to get to him, you have to go by me first.” Alec sounded as threatening as he looked. There was no way he would let the Clave take Jace away from him. His eyes burned into the ones of the Inquisitor.

“Jace is innocent. He didn’t do these things.”

The Inquisitor looked unimpressed. “Then the Soul Sword will show this. We have enough evidence to take him into custody. We have enough witnesses who saw him killing our own kind.”

Jace struggled, but he finally managed to push himself up. He swayed a little and reached out for Alec, before the other could feel his touch, he had already turned slightly and grabbed Jace around his waist, supporting him.

“Don’t Alec.” Jace’s plea was barely audible. The blond took gently Alec’s face in both hands and they locked eyes, staring at each other, leading a silent discussion only the two of them understood. Jace brushed Alec’s cheek tenderly, and at that, the older boy closed his eyes in dismay, but nodded. In a mutual understanding they leaned further in to close the last tiny gap between them, pressing their lips desperately together for their first passionate, needy and loving kiss, both hoping it won’t be their last at the same time.

Before the Clave Shadowhunters could pull them apart, they parted on their own, both not looking away from each other. Jace hold up his hands and crossed them slowly behind his back, hissing slightly at the pain of the handcuffs, which closed around his still bruised wrists.

The men dragged him out of the room, before the door closed behind them, Jace turned for the last time to look at his Parabatai, who still stood rooted to the same spot, not having moved an inch.

“I love you.” Jace mouthed at him, a radiant smile crossing over his face when he saw Alec whispering the same words back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was told that cliffhangers are mean, I tried to not keep you waiting for too long - I hoped you liked the solution (and I know I promised not to kill him, but I brought him back? I hope that counts 😉)  
> As always, I really appreciate your thoughts & kudos.


	8. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Again, Jace found himself imprisoned in a stony cell. In the faint distant, he heard other inmates scream and grunt in their own agony and nightmares. He was not sure what the Silent Brothers did to them, but he himself felt that the place, the City of Bones, tried to suck all happiness out of him. If it were not for his strengthened bond with Alec, he wouldn’t know how to survive. He would probably also hide in a corner and whimper, like the other prisoners he had seen while the guards and the Silent Brothers had brought him in.

The Silent Brothers gave him the creeps, they always had. Their sealed mouths and sewed eyes together with their skeleton-like figures – it had always scared him. They were the furthest away from being alive without actually being dead and he truly couldn’t imagine why someone chose this fate willingly.

He had always wondered why Shadowhunters completely relied on them for complicated healing procedures and also trusted them with guarding their most feared enemies. Healing and keeping alleged perpetrators locked up, ready to torture them with their mind games – it didn’t make much sense to him.

Jace pressed lightly against his Parabatai rune, the slight push he received as an answer making his lips twitch into a small smile. Alec. The boy he had always loved and would always love, loved him back, even after everything he had done. Furthermore, he had come to save him. He tried to hold on to this happy thought, yet other, unpleasant ones crept into his mind forcefully.

“They will hunt you and put you down like the dog you are.” He couldn’t shake off this thought. It seemed as if his surroundings, the bones of the dead, which guarded the entrance to the City or the Silent Brothers themselves, tried to force Malachi’s words into his consciousness. The humming in the bond fought against it, but the longer he was locked up in the Silent City, the harder it was to focus on the bond. Alec had come for him - that was all that mattered, he had to remind himself of that constantly. He still had to process that he had died, that Alec had somehow taken his soul into his own and that Clary had used a wish from an Angel to bring him back. His little sister who he had sworn to protect, yet she had been the one to save him. Sometimes, life went strange ways.

He felt the deep connection to his Parabatai, though they were miles away. They always had been close, but now it felt different. More intimate in a way, as if not only a small part of Alec was inside him but his true core. Unfortunately, there was also something else, something dark, which tried to push his soul out of the light and into the shadows. He couldn’t put a finger on it, if it was also the City of Bones doing this to him or if this was something else, but it felt frightening. Jace knew he had to fight it, he had to stay in the light and not let the darkness consume him. For Alec.

At the beginning, he had been calmer than he thought he would be. But Alec had been right, it hadn’t been he who had killed all those people, he had been under a strong spell. The Soul Sword would bring the truth to light. In a few days, he would be free. He had silently pleaded with Alec to let him go, to not fight for him, as it would have ended in a blood bath. He couldn’t allow Alec to lose his innocence. Even though Jace hadn’t been able to make a different choice, he felt the weight of the dead Shadowhunters on him, trying to press him down with guilt. He stored the guilt in the back of his mind, locking it up tightly so that he could carry on. Yet he knew, sometime he had to deal with it. But not now. Now, he had to keep his sanity in this godforsaken place, which got harder with every minute. He started to feel blurry around the edges.

***

“Jonathan.” The cruel voice of Inquisitor Victor Aldertree rang through the prison. Jace gulped nervously, it was not customary for an Inquisitor to show up to the prison cells. Interrogations were held in Institutes or public ones like his trial with the Soul Sword in the Council Hall in Idris. Jace looked through the bars of his cell. What he saw made his stomach sink. The eyes, which met his, were filled with the same self-satisfied and holier-than-thou expression he had seen twice in his life. Once in his father’s eyes, once in Malachi’s.

***

“So we have an agreement, Jonathan?”

Jace glared defiantly at him. But he nodded, what else was there left for him to do? He hated that man in front of him nearly as much as he had hated his father. The easiness with which he condemned him to death, fully aware that Jace was not completely guilty of the crimes he was charged with, made his stomach revolt. Justice was just a word like any other, if no one cared to serve it. The Inquisitor clearly was not here for justice. He was here for revenge. He was here to give the bloodthirsty crowd what they wanted: to watch a Morgenstern burn. But all Jace could do was nod and agree.

He brought his knees to his chin and folded his arms around him, rocking slightly back and forth. Even the steady humming of his bond couldn’t bring him any hope anymore. In two days, he would burn on the pyres of the Clave, burn until he was reunited with the world of shadows and only dust was left of him.

***

Finally, exhaustion took over and Jace fell into a fitful sleep. This time nightmares didn’t hunt him, his dream was black and blank, maybe worse than any image of a true nightmare could be.

He woke with a start, his pulse racing when he heard unknown footsteps approach his cell. It was not yet time for his trial and the Silent Brothers who brought food never made any sound. Jace didn’t expect something good.

“Jonathan.”

Jace winced slightly at the use of his birth name.

“Don’t call me that.” He eyed the warlock in front of him suspiciously. He had no idea what he could want from him.

Magnus looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Magnus had sworn some time ago to not meddle with Shadowhunter affairs ever again, and yet here he was, standing in the middle of the dreadful Silent City. Next time, he should listen to his own advice. He sighed.

“Jace” he started again, using this time his nickname. “You look awful.”

Jace laughed hollowly. “My apologies. My appointment for the hairdresser got cancelled.”

Magnus smirked a little. “That’s not what I mean. Is this place getting to you?”

“Do you even care?”

“That is really a good question, Jo – Jace. Actually I’m not sure if I do. At least not for you.”

Jace laughed again, a little less hollow this time. “At least you’re honest.”

Magnus eyed Jace for a long time, the silence stretching on.

“Alexander asked me to take a look at you. He said that he feels that there is something off with you. That there is a shadow on your soul. He feels it reflected on his.”

Jace closed his eyes briefly. So Alec could feel it, too. This probably meant it had nothing to do with the City of Bones, but only himself. Yet, it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

“And why are you here then and not he?”

“I have my suspicions what it is and I probably can help.”

“But you are not really keen on helping me.”

The warlock shrugged. “Alexander is convinced of your story, that you were under the spell when you killed the Shadowhunters, but were able to break it in the end. And though I trust his judgment, I am not fully convinced. I’m familiar with that type of spell. I have never heard of anyone to break free of it.”

Jace had stepped closely to the prison bars, but now he retreated, leaning against the side wall. His body was still tired and exhausted, and frankly, he didn’t care if the warlock believed him or not.

“Then don’t be. I don’t care either way. I don’t need your help. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Magnus sighed again. “If you are telling the truth, the Soul Sword will reveal it. So why won’t it matter?”

“The Soul Sword only reveals the truth to questions that are being asked.”

“And why would they not ask the questions which defend you?”

“Because they want to watch me burn. My father died at Clary’s hands, Malachi at Alec’s. This is not satisfying for many Shadowhunters. They want to see blood. They want revenge. To see Valentine’s son light up in flames will give the Clave the satisfaction they want.”

“Then make someone ask the right questions. Alexander has influence, he can give you the right defense… unless you can’t let them ask the right questions, because you would answer them wrongly.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” Jace sounded tired and defeated. He really didn’t need this right now.

Magnus was indeed about to turn around, when he reminded himself of the promise he had given Alexander. He cursed inwardly at his soft heart, but looked back at Jace, who had slid down the wall and hugged himself tightly, his head resting on his knees. He looked young and vulnerable like this and something stirred inside Magnus.

“There are two options. Either you are guilty of the charges or you want to protect someone by not telling everything.”

Despite his will, Jace looked up. Magnus caught the small flicker before Jace managed to smooth his face again.

“So who are you protecting? The Clave knows about Clary’s wish to the Angel Ithuriel. They are not happy, but there is nothing they can do about it. So that leaves Alexander. What could they do to him?” Magnus mused, when suddenly the realization hit him. “He knew about you being Valentine’s son and about Malachi all along, didn’t he. Of course he did. But this is not enough for the Clave to burn him. He would be probably de-runed for not telling. But what makes you think Alexander would prefer being a Shadowhunter over you being alive?”

“You don’t understand. It is not only about the de-runing. Alec and me, we have pissed off a lot of demons by hunting them. As soon as the word spreads – and they will make sure it does - that Alec is de-runed, they will seek revenge. He would be dead in a week without his skills and weapons to defend himself. Even if I could watch over him for 24/7, eventually they would kill him. And I can’t let this happen. Not to save myself. I just can’t. I need him to live.”

Magnus was quiet for some time; he understood perfectly well where Jace was coming from. Most probably, he was right.

“But sacrificing yourself is not the right solution. As much as you need him alive, as much he needs you alive. But I might have also an answer to this problem. I’ll come inside now.”

With a twirl of his hand, Magnus opened the cell door and stepped inside. Jace was still sitting on the ground, leaning exhausted against the wall, eying the warlock wearily.

“If I am not mistaken, the dark shadow on your soul comes from the fact that the baptizing ritual for you has not been performed anew when you came back from the dead. When a Shadowhunter is born, he is a blank sheet. Only the ritual performed by a Silent Brother makes him a true Shadowhunter, a true person really. It is to protect his soul against the evil influences in the world, but also to initiate him into the ranks of a Shadowhunter, giving him also his true and only name. Before the ritual, he is nobody.”

Magnus saw Jace nod in understanding, he smiled when he saw the aura of despair, which had been surrounding him, fading a bit.

“So you mean… when I am baptized again I will be a new person?”

“In a way, yes. You will even get a new name if you want. There is no need to be Jonathan anymore. You can be Jace now. And when they ask you if you killed all those Shadowhunters, you can truthfully say no.”

A desperate laugh escaped Jace. “And you really think this will add up? But I don’t think any Silent Brother would be willing to perform the ritual for me.”

“Leave that to me, I know an unusual one who certainly will be happy to help. And for the rest – I think it depends a bit on how much of a fey you are, Jace.”

Jace laughed again, a bit more hopeful now. He could be like a fey, if he must. He had always been capable of being what others needed him to be.

“So let me confirm my suspicion.” Magnus snapped his hands again, magic twirling around his fingertips, ready to let his magic wash over the blond. Yet, he paused when he saw Jace flinch, fear clearly written all over his face.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Easier said than done. The last time a warlock came so close to me I turned into a soulless killer.”

Magnus paused for a moment before he asked Jace to give him his hand. Hesitantly the Shadowhunter complied and stretched out one arm.

“What did Fade’s magic feel like to you?”

“Cold. Hostile.” Jace shuddered at that thought.

“And how does mine feel?” Magnus asked in a gentle tone, while he let some sparks dance around Jace’s open palm. He smiled when he felt the boy relax.

“Warm” Jace breathed relieved. He nodded towards Magnus to indicate he was ready for more. Magnus let his magic fly and Jace felt it wash over him, wrapping itself around him like a warm blanket. It didn’t feel hostile, at all. When Magnus was finished, Jace was barely able to hold his eyes open. He was drained, his body desperately needing some rest. He was relieved when Magnus confirmed his earlier assumption and promised him to send the Silent Brother to perform the ritual. He didn’t register the moment Magnus left, as he had already fallen asleep, half leaning against the cold wall, half laying on the ground. Yet he felt still warm, as if Magnus’ magic lingered a little longer around him to protect him against the cold.

***

“Alec.” Jace sounded surprised, even though the bond had announced the closeness of his Parabatai.

“You didn’t honestly think I would not come visit you?” It was one day before his trial and one day after his new baptizing ritual. The dark stain on his soul had vanished the moment Brother Zacharia had spoken the sacred vows and ever since, he had felt much lighter, much more hopeful.

Jace had chosen his nickname as his real name, yet he had kept Morgenstern, in the lack of a better one. He knew he was not welcome to the Lightwood family, not to Maryse and Robert at least. And somehow it would feel strange to carry Alec’s last name anyway, so early into their relationship. But he had also chosen Morgenstern in the intent to bring it to a new light, to erase the bad memories associated with it and replace them with new, good ones.

“Took you long enough though.” Jace huffed, but there was no heat in it. They stood closely to the bars, their index fingers interlined, as this was the only possibility to touch each other. Their bond hummed in excitement.

“I had to do some preparations.”

“Do I want to know what for?”

Alec smiled smugly. “Probably not. But if you think I stand by and watch you burn you are clearly mistaken. I would rather die beside you then live without you. I cannot lose you, Jace. Not again.”

The blond sighed, but he knew better than to argue with this new ruthless and determined Alec. He had to admit, he liked it. It was definitely hot.

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” Alec nodded in agreement.

The rest of his visit they just stood there, letting their emotions fly through their bond, forgetting the world around them.

***

Jace was escorted by two Shadowhunters to the Council Hall in Idris. He felt strangely calm. He was still tired, he felt like the exhaustion would never leave him fully again. He hated this weakness and was determined to not let it show.

The hall was bursting at the seams. Beside the complete Council and some familiar faces like Robert and Maryse, he was faced with a huge crowd of strangers, Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike. Most of them wore a grim expression. A flash of relieve travelled through his body when he saw Alec who looked back at him, a stern and simultaneously loving gaze on his face. Next to him sat Magnus, his sisters were not allowed to attend, as they still were minors. Yet, he had no doubt that they were close by, ready to fight for and with him if things went south.

The Inquisitor sat on a large table, placed at one end of the room, on a small stage. Before him lay the Soul Sword in all its glory. Jace suppressed a shudder, he knew what was going to happen would hurt. After today, he really hoped that no one would meddle with his soul ever again.

Next to the Inquisitor sat the newly elected Consul, Jia Penhallow. She was a blank sheet to Jace, he didn’t know her at all. But he also couldn’t bring himself to care, he knew who the true enemy was in this room. Aldertree wanted to sentence him to death to establish his position as a man of power. He wanted to be remembered as the man who caught the son of Valentine Morgenstern and who had brought justice to the Shadow World by burning him to ashes. And a lot would applaud to that, making sure that Aldertree was re-elected for the next period.

Aldertree smirked at Jace, who was brought in front of him. The blond was positioned in front of the Soul Sword, facing the crowd.

After a short introduction, stating the facts against him, outlining what crimes he allegedly had committed, a Silent Brother stepped forward and indicated Jace to stretch out his arms.

Jace drew in a deep breath but held out his arms without hesitation, palms facing upwards. The Silent Brother placed the sword into his hands and the moment the metal touched his skin, he felt the power of the sword urging through him. He inhaled sharply. Nearly involuntarily his hands closed around the blade, cutting him where his palms closed around the edges. He felt the power penetrate him, settling around his soul. He looked up and saw Alec grit his teeth; he surly must feel some of the pain.

“State your name.” Aldertree’s cruel voice sounded through the room.

Jace felt the sword vibrate, forcing him to hold on tighter to it and answer the question truthfully – not that he intended to lie anyway.

“Jace Morgenstern.”

Jace answer was firm, yet his body was shaking with exhaustion already. He felt the sharp edge of the sword at his soul, threating to cut if the sword’s need for the truth was not satisfied. He hoped the Inquisitor would go straight to the important question.

“Did you kill the Shadowhunters in the Mexican and London Institute?”

The sword pulsated even more forcefully. Jace gasped with the strain of it, but even though his voice sounded a bit pressed, he managed to voice the next words.

“I did not kill these Shadowhunters. I didn’t do it.”

The hall erupted in noise, some screamed with rage, some had sprung of their seats. “Liar” was heard dozens of times. Aldertree had gone red in the face and risen to his feet, about to approach Jace.

“Quiet.” The authoritative voice of the Consul rang through the room and slowly, most Shadowhunters and Downworlders complied and settled down again.

“We will proceed with the trial. Answer me…” Aldertree screamed with rage, fearing his scheme was about to fall apart.

“Stop.” Now Magnus spoke up in a lordly tone, enhanced by magic so that everyone could understand him.

“The last time I saw a trial with the Soul Sword here in the holy Council Hall, a Shadowhunter was at trial for murdering Downworlders. When he denied his wrongdoing, he was immediately released. No further questions were asked. This is here the same case. Jace stated clearly that he is not guilty of the charges. I don’t think you want to leave the impression that now when Shadowhunters are concerned there are other rules, Mrs. Penhallow, so shortly before the renewal of the Accords? This would shed a really suspicious light on how you view Downworlders. Or do you admit that the Soul Sword can be mistaken?”

Magnus heard a lot of his fellow Downworlders murmur their agreement. Warlocks like Magnus or Vampires had been present at said trial and they could not agree more to what their leader just had stated.

Jia Penhallow glared daggers at Magnus, but he had given her little choice.

“The Soul Sword is of course without fail. You may release Jace Morgenstern, Brother Enoch.”

Aldertree went white with fury, but he didn’t dare to go against the Consul openly. Brother Enoch approached Jace and took the sword from his shaking hands. The moment the weight of the sword was taken from his hands and from his soul, Jace felt his knees giving in, but before he hit the ground, strong arms surrounded him, holding him upright.

The hall had erupted in noise again, some clapped applause for Jace, most demanded still his punishment. Without waiting any longer, Magnus had followed Alec on the stage. Magnus snapped his fingers once and a portal appeared. Better not to waste time but bring all of them to safety, before a Shadowhunter was tempted to take Aldertree’s twisted justice in his own hands.

Jace was half pushed half carried through the portal. When he felt solid ground under his feet again, he blinked a few times, trying to keep up with what was happening. He leaned heavily on Alec, his body was sore at places he never knew possible. He felt tired to the bones, yet, being so close to his Parabatai again, he felt another, even more overwhelming need. When he looked at Alec and was met with dark eyes full of love, relieve and lust, he gulped.

Magnus cleared his throat. It took them some effort to look away from each other and towards Magnus.

“I guess I can leave you to it? This is one of my protected apartments in New York. Feel free to stay as long as you want. I’ll let Clary and Izzy know that you are safe. Send them a firemassage when you are…. done.” He gestured between them.

Alec blushed. “Magnus, I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me. For us.”

Jace nodded. “Thank you Magnus. If there is anything I can do for you, no matter what or when, let me know. We owe you.”

Magnus just waved, conjuring another portal, leaving the boys finally to themselves.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, getting lost in their physical and emotional closeness. But they needed more now. Without saying another word, they urged forward, crashing their lips together, meeting in a passionate kiss. Teeth rubbed over sensitive lips, lips sucked on tongues and hands tried to get as much skin contact as possible.

“I need you, Jace, I need you, now.” Alec’s voice sounded already wrecked. He had felt Jace’s soul inside of him, he needed to feel him inside of him again, like now. With a fluid motion he got rid of his shirt, gasping lightly when he felt Jace cupping his ass and squeezing tightly.

“I want you too Alec. So much.”

The unzipping of Jace’s fly was the most beautiful sound Alec had ever heard and when they were both naked, he couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful Parabatai. Even though he looked thinner than he remembered, he was still the most perfect person Alec had ever seen.

“Like what you see? “ Jace teased lightly, before he claimed Alec’s mouth again in a heated kiss, pressing their bare cocks together, bucking his hips until Alec moaned with want and need.

“Bedroom.” Jace ordered when he managed to draw away for a second. He felt his strength rune and stamina rune light up, before he lifted Alec up easily, the older boy wrapping his legs around his waist. He carried him to the bedroom and laid him carefully down on the huge bed, nearly crashing on top of him. He smiled down on Alec before he started to lick at the prominent deflect rune, stopping to suck at his lover’s pulse point. Alec squirmed under him, trying to get any kind of friction to his painfully hard cock.

“Fuck” Alec murmured. “I need you fucking right now.”

Alec could feel Jace smile against his neck, but thankfully the blond complied.

“I love you” he murmured seductively before he started to prep him, first with one finger but soon adding a second and then a third. When he finally pushed into him, all Alec could do was moan in pleasure and need. It felt like nothing he had ever felt before, their emotions interlined so he could not only feel Jace inside of himself, but also how Jace felt to be buried balls deep inside of him.

Both didn’t last long, the mutual feelings too overwhelming. But neither cared. They had time for that later. Jace collapsed on top of Alec, enjoying the aftermath of their joint orgasm.

Alec carded lazily through Jace’s hair, enjoying the heavy weight of his Parabatai on him.

“I love you, too” Alec murmured into Jace’s neck. Jace hummed in responds, barely able to hold his eyes open.

“I’m sorry Alec” Jace’s speech was slurred with sleep.

“Shush. Go to sleep my Parabatai. I’m here when you wake up. I’ll be always here.”

He closed his arms around Jace and felt his body go lax nearly a second later. His deep breaths announced that he was already asleep. Alec adjusted himself a bit, before he also closed his eyes, not letting go of Jace for the entire time.

***

Jace was still splayed over Alec when he stirred after a couple of hours of undisturbed sleep, a smile on his lips.

“Hey beautiful.” Alec blushed.

“No one ever called me that.”

“That’s a shame. You truly are beautiful.” Jace pressed a kiss to Alec’s lips. Both were a bit sweaty and sticky, but neither of them wanted to leave the warmness and comfort of the bed. Neither wanted to let go just yet of the other.

Jace scooped a bit to the side to give Alec more space to breath, enjoying his Parabatai’s hands in his hair, massaging lightly his scalp before combing through it again.

Jace felt beyond happy, laying in the arms of his lover, yet his mind was not able to concentrate only on the moment any longer.

“Stop thinking” Alec teased, fully aware that their roles were reversed for once.

“I try. It’s just… What happens now, Alec? Where can we go? Where can we live? Half or maybe even more of the Shadow World still wants to see me burn on the stakes of the Clave.”

“Don’t worry about that, Jace. I already made plans.” At Jace’s expected snort Alec just smiled, pressing a kiss against the blond’s forehead.

“I made plans so that you can stop worrying and thinking. You’ve been through enough already. We can live with the Blackthorns in L.A. I’ve spoken to Andrew Blackthorn, he is ready to take all four of us in.”

“Why on earth would he of all people do that? I nearly killed his stepdaughter, Emma.” A small shudder ran over his spine at the thought of that.

“No, Jace, you didn’t nearly kill her. Jonathan did. Besides, do you remember the tale of the two brothers who went into the Fairy realm? The one they tell little children?”

When Jace shook his head, he went on. “It’s actually not an old tale, it is rather new.” Alec shortly paused, gathering his thoughts before he went on in a calm voice.

“Two brothers found a door to the Seelie realm and they were curious and reckless, relying on their youth and strength. So they stepped through it and enjoyed the beauty of the Fairyland. Eventually, one got caught and was brought to the Seelie Court. One princess of the court fell in love with him immediately and took him under her wing. She made him fall in love with her using a spell on him. So he stayed.

The other brother was devastated and searched for his beloved brother. When he was caught as well, he was given the choice if he wanted to leave and never see his brother again or give up his freedom to be close to his brother. The second brother didn’t need to think twice, he chose to sacrifice. Yet, he had not so much luck as his brother. No prince or princess fell for him, he was used as a playtoy for the cruel entertainment the fey enjoy. His screams were heard throughout the whole court, but whenever the other brother heard them, his princess assured him that it was just an animal, not his brother. So he stayed and fathered two children with the princess.

After a while, others took an interest in the princess’ lover and to prevent him from any harm, she set him and their two children free and returned him home, together with the tormented brother. Whenever the first brother looked at his beautiful children, half seelie, half Shadowhunter, he was reminded what price his brother had paid for his happiness.”

Alec was silent for a while, letting the story sink in.

“Helen and Mark.” Jace whispered. “So you mean the story is true and Andrew and Arthur Blackthorn are the two brothers? And Helen and Mark are the children?”

Alec nodded. “Yes. The feys have gifted Andrew with two children and the experience of an overwhelming love and tortured his brother Arthur into insanity, right next to Andrew enjoying his life with his princess. Believe me Jace, if someone knows what a spell is capable of, then it is Andrew. He gladly takes us in, I spoke to him and he was earnest about it. I also think talking to him can help you sorting everything out. Deal with the guilt and stuff. It will take time, but we will figure it out, we will figure it out together.”

He kissed Jace, sloppy, passionate and lovingly. “Together” Jace agreed.

“It’s just… I think I don’t know who I am anymore, Alec.”

“I’ll love you no matter who you are, Jace. And that you don’t know it just yet, it just means that you are free to become whoever you want to be.”

Jace smiled, relaxing further against Alec’s strong body. _Free,_ Jace thought. Free sounded good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story comes to an end... I hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it!   
> Thank you for supporting me with kudos and comments 💙
> 
> Also for this last chapter, I am really curious to learn what you think - feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. 
> 
> If you have any ideas for a story you'd like to see written, just leave me a comment.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos & comments mean the world to me, so thank you for leaving them ❤


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